


Strange Visitor

by Emmyllou



Category: Chronicles of Amber - Roger Zelazny, The Dresden Files - All Media Types, The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, Crossover, Gen, Murder Mystery, Post-Book 14: Cold Days
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 07:52:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 41,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14327967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emmyllou/pseuds/Emmyllou
Summary: A dead woman turns up in Mab's territory. Harry must solve the mystery of her murder with the help of someone from out of town.Very, very far out of town.Familiarity with Chronicles of Amber not necessary.Rated M for language and violence.





	Strange Visitor

**Author's Note:**

> This story is set sometime vaguely after Cold Days and immediately before the Merlin Cycle of the Chronicles of Amber. It references minor events and things that happened in Skin Game and Jury Duty, but no major plot points are related to either of those stories.
> 
> As I said in the summary, you don't need to be familiar with Chronicles of Amber in order to understand (and hopefully enjoy!) this story. Harry certainly is not.

“I need you to fold an origami bird,” Mab said.

I blinked a few times. “I have to admit, that’s not what I expected when you summoned me here to complete a task you said was, and I quote, ‘vital to maintaining the fabric of reality’.”

Mab held out a square of white paper, which I took with a sigh.

“I don’t know how to make an origami bird,” I said.

“Then I suggest you learn,” said Mab with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I will wait here. Be prompt.” I heard her ordering another lemonade as I left MacAnally’s. The renovations after the Outsider attack were still ongoing, but Mac was open for business. He still used his singed “Accorded Neutral Territory” sign.

I bought some origami paper from a craft store before heading to a nearby library and finding a few books on origami. If there was anything special about the paper Mab had given me, which there very well might be, I wanted to practice on something mundane first. I hid myself in a remote corner of the quiet section, away from the eyes of other visitors, and flipped through the first book in my stack.

Mab hadn’t specified which kind of bird she wanted, so I started with medium-difficulty variations and slowly decreased the difficulty as even the simpler patterns proved to be too challenging for me. I groaned in frustration when I misfolded the tiniest crease in the easiest bird once again, and a nearby librarian shushed me. My fingers ached. I leaned back in my chair, stretched, and thought. My face split into a grin as an idea came to me. Mab _hadn’t_ specified which kind of bird she wanted. A few practice trials later, and I was ready to present my origami bird to Mab back at MacAnally’s.

Mab looked down at the paper airplane in her hands then back up at me suspiciously. “Your task was to make an origami bird,” she said.

“I did make a bird. _Bird_ can be slang for airplane,” I said. “Many airplanes are named after birds, such as the Albatross, Blackbird, Eagle--”

Mab held up a hand and cut me off. “Very well,” she said after a pause, her face unreadable. “I suppose this will do. Come.” She swept out of the bar without checking to see if I were following.

Mab led me to a narrow alley behind the pub, out of sight of the passers-by, and threw the paper airplane. It flew down the alley, sharply turned the corner, and sailed off into the sky. It drifted on the late spring winds without giving any sign of coming back down until I lost track of it.

“What was that all about?” I asked.

“In time, you will see,” said Mab, which was just typical.

\---

The next day, Alfred interrupted my usual morning parkour routine. _SHE IS HERE,_ he said, almost reproachfully.

I took a few moments to wipe most of the sweat off my face and change into some clean-- well, cleaner, at least-- clothes before heading down to the beach. Mab awaited me, a sailboat manned by Sidhe behind her. As I approached, she wordlessly turned and boarded the boat, and I followed. We sailed to a small marina near the Field Museum and disembarked. My staff drew a few strange looks from passers-by, but I ignored them. It was only right that I stood apart, that I inspired awe and fear.

No. That was the Winter Mantle. I brushed those thoughts away as though sweeping a light snowfall from the windshield of a car. And, like the glass, I was left chilled by their presence.

“Are we meeting someone here?” I asked to distract myself. Mab nodded but said nothing else. She chose a bench with a view across the lake. I leaned against the back of the bench so I could scan the marina. A few drops of rain still lingered on the bench from last night’s thunderstorm. Within moments, they had frozen.

“Who are we meeting?” I said.

“A man who owes me a debt,” said Mab.

“Well, that narrows it down.”

“Considerably.”

“What’s his name?”

“He has many names. I think it best if he introduces himself.” Mab gazed across the lake. “He is near.”

I spied a man making his way down the sidewalk a few minutes later, clearly on the lookout. Mab stood and turned as he approached, and I saw he held the paper airplane in one hand.

“Queen Mab,” he said when he stood in front of us. “I was wondering when you would send for me.”

Mab inclined her head. “Allow me to introduce Wizard Harry Dresden, the Winter Knight.”

“What happened to Slate?” the man asked. Mab showed her teeth in an approximation of a smile. “Never mind. I’m Merle. Merle Corey.” I offered my hand, and he shook it.

Mab’s eyes narrowed, and the temperature dropped by several degrees. “I was under the impression you were here in your official capacity.”

The man grimaced. “Yes, you are correct.” He turned back to me. “My name is Merlin of House Sawall.” Mab raised an eyebrow, and he gritted his teeth. “Prince of Chaos and Lord of Amber.”

“I… am not sure what that means,” I said. “What are Amber and Chaos? Are they part of the Nevernever?”

Merlin grimaced. “The Nevernever is like the spirit world, right?” I nodded, and he continued. “No, they’re not part of the Nevernever. They’re both very far away.”

“He needs to know,” Mab said.

“Oh boy,” said Merlin under his breath before continuing in a normal voice. “Amber and the Courts of Chaos are like alternate dimensions. Rather, everything else is an alternate dimension of those two places, the two true worlds. They are… absolute realities. Everything that lies between them, including your Earth, are reflections called Shadows.”

“Wait a minute,” I said. I took a moment to summon a phrase to accurately describe my reaction to the bombshell that had just been dropped on me. “What the fuck?”

“What?” asked Merlin, as though he hadn’t just told me something that required a major restructuring of my entire worldview. “Have you never heard of alternate dimensions before? I know the magical world tends to lag behind the times, technologically speaking, but it’s a fairly common theory.”

“I don’t even know what that’s supposed to mean. Earth isn’t _real?_ What the actual fuck?”

“It’s real in the sense that it exists. It’s not a dream or a figment of imagination.”

“I don’t understand.” I had to make a noticable effort to control my breathing. This was too much to process.

“This is why I didn’t want to tell him,” Merlin said to Mab. He turned back to me. “Think of it like this. This world is linked to the Nevernever, right? They’re both real, but they are separate planes of existence. And beings who are trained in doing so can pass between the worlds. Shadows are kind of like that, except they’re not linked in the same way, and it takes more than just training to walk between them.”

A chill ran down my back. “You said Shadows are like alternate dimensions, but the way you’re describing them, it sounds more like Shadows are parallel universes.”

Merlin shrugged. “Is there a semantic difference?”

“He’s an Outsider,” I said to Mab.

“Hey, I’ve been here for long enough,” said Merlin, affronted.

“No,” Mab replied. “He’s not part of this universe, but he is _not_ an Outsider.”

“Why do you look human if you’re not part of this universe?” I asked Merlin.

Merlin looked down at himself and then around at the marina. “I figured it would be easier to blend in.”

That was not a very reassuring answer. “Okay. I can accept the existence of parallel universes or alternate dimensions,” I said. “I can accept that you’re from Outside, like an Outsider, but you’re not actually an Outsider yourself. But I just don’t understand how you can travel between the universes or Shadows or whatever. That’s just not possible. I mean, we have this whole system to keep the Outsiders… Out.” Two pairs of eyes bored into me, and I felt the Winter Mantle whispering inside me, a challenge to match theirs. “Isn’t there a...” I glanced at Mab. “A Gate?”

Mab shook her head almost imperceptibly.

“A gate?” asked Merlin. “What do you mean?”

“Never mind,” I said. “It’s not important.”

“What _is_ important,” Mab said, her voice icy, “Is the task I have for you both. Lord Merlin, it is time for you to repay your debt. I have been accused of breaching the Unseelie Accords. A messenger from the Archive was found dead on the outskirts of Arctis Tor just before her appointed time to deliver a message to me.”

“What was the message about?” I asked.

“We were negotiating a meeting between myself and the Archive,” said Mab.

“Why were you planning on meeting with Ivy?”

“ _The Archive,”_ Mab said, placing a light stress on the words, “and I sometimes collaborate on matters that are unimportant for you to know about and irrelevant to your investigation.”

“I think I should decide what is important and relevant,” I said.

Mab glared at me, and I shivered. “Do you now?”

“How did the messenger die?” Merlin interjected.

“An icicle through the heart.” Mab’s eyes flashed with a challenge. “Isn’t there another question you want to ask me?”

I thought for a moment. Oh, to hell with it. “Did you do it? Are you guilty of violating the Unseelie Accords?”

“Does it matter?” asked Mab. I didn’t answer, and she continued. “No. To the best of my knowledge, I did not cause this woman’s death through any action or direction. I did not kill this woman, nor did anyone in my Court, nor any other being or force under my instructions or knowing influence. I did my utmost to ensure her safety as the Unseelie Accords require of me. Harry,” she said, and I was surprised enough by her suddenly vulnerable tone that I held her gaze, “it is monumentally important that you prove my innocence.”

I thought back to when she told me that my creation of an origami bird was vital to maintaining the fabric of reality, and a shiver ran down my spine. “I see.”

“Indeed,” said Mab. “I think we’ve spent quite enough time on explanations.”

“Right then,” I said. “I— _we_ should get to work.” I turned to leave, but Mab called me back.

“You can trust Merlin with any information you deem necessary to the case,” she said. “Do you understand?”

I nodded slowly. “I do understand.”

“Good. The boat will be here for your use when you have need of it,” Mab said. She remained seated, gazing across the lake, as Merlin and I left.

“No offense,” I said as we made our way through the marina, “but this kind of investigation is right up my alley. Why are you here?”

“None taken.” Merlin thought for a few seconds. “I’m not much of a detective. I don’t know what Mab expects me to contribute.”

I shrugged. “I’m sure she had her reasons.”

“One thing confuses me. Maybe I’m missing something, but… Faeries can’t lie, right?”

“Right.”

“So why can’t Mab tell the… the Archive… why can’t she say what she just said to us and prove her innocence that way?”

I wondered how much to tell Merlin. Too little and he wouldn’t be able to properly help me investigate. Too much and I might tip off Nemesis, though Mab had quite clearly told me that she trusted him, and I should too.. “There is a contamination,” I whispered. “A contagion of sorts that’s been spreading. We call it the Adversary. It lets beings act against their nature.”

“For example, it could let Sidhe lie,” said Merlin.

I nodded. “A few Sidhe close to Mab, including her own daughter, were infected. It wouldn’t be unreasonable for Ivy to assume that the Queen was infected as well.”

“And there’s no way to tell?”

“None that are viable options.”

“How do you know that Mab isn’t affected?” Merlin asked.

“She cured one of the infected Sidhe and had another killed,” I said.

“Her daughter?” guessed Merlin.

“You don’t seem too alarmed.”

“Filicide isn’t unheard of in my family. My paternal grandfather sent a few of his sons off to a war from which they weren’t expected to return when it got out that they were vying for his throne. Most of my aunts and uncles have tried to kill one another. A few of them succeeded.” Merlin laughed. “Hell, one of them was even named Caine.”

“Some family.” I didn’t think that mentioning I had murdered my first adopted father would be a good idea at this point in time.

“Where are we going, anyway?” asked Merlin.

“I need to find some paper and a pen.”

“Oh, I can get that easily enough.” Merlin pulled me down a nearby alley, just out of view of the sidewalk pedestrians. He narrowed his eyes in concentration and wiggled his arms slowly.

“Uh, what are you doing?” I asked.

“Shh,” he said. After a few seconds, a notebook and a pen appeared in his hands.

“You looked like a jellyfish,” I informed him as I took the notebook and pen. “What was that?”

“My contribution to the investigation,” said Merlin with a grin.

“Did you conjure these from the Nevernever?” I asked.

Merlin shook his head. “No, I pulled them through Shadow to me. It’s kind of the opposite of walking through Shadow to get somewhere else.”

“Huh.” I opened the notebook to a random page and wrote:

_Dear Ivy,_

_I have been assigned to investigate the death of your messenger to the Winter Queen. Is there a time and place we can meet to discuss the matter? You can find me at Demonreach._

_Yours,_

_Harry Dresden_

I shut the notebook, and Merlin looked askance. “Are you going to post the letter?” he asked.

“Nope. Ivy will get it.”

“Right.”

We stood for a few moments in silence before I remembered my manners. “Do you have a place to stay while you’re here?”

Merlin shrugged. “I thought I’d just find a cheap motel.”

“You can stay with me on my island,” I offered. “But you should really see the place before you make any commitments.”

“Sounds good,” said Merlin. “I’d like to stay on land a bit longer, though. I wasn’t sure what Mab wanted when she summoned me, and I didn’t bring a change of clothes. I’d like to buy a few things while we’re here.”

“Sure,” I said. “I have a phone call to make anyways. Meet back here in a few hours?”

“Sounds good,” Merlin said. He hailed a taxi to take him into the city proper, and I wandered off in search of a phone box. It took me longer to find one than I expected. As the prevalence of things like cell phones and computers increased, so did the difficulty I had contacting anyone, which seemed to me like the opposite of how it should have been. Finally, I found a pay phone in working condition without too much gum stuck to it, and I shoved a few coins into the slot and dialed a number.

“Brighter Future Society, how can we help you?” answered a familiar-sounding secretary.

“Um, Thomas? Is that you?” I asked.

“Who is—Harry?” said the voice on the other end of the line. “Yeah, this is Thomas. Why are you calling?”

“Why are you answering?” I said.

“Lara officially recruited me to the Brighter Future Society. I didn’t want to join at first, but Justine convinced me.” I could hear the smile in Thomas’s voice even though I couldn’t see it. “Feels good to be doing something, you know? Even if it’s just answering the phone at the moment. And I’ve been sparring with the Einherjahren and Karrin.”

“Speaking of Karrin, is she in? I have some questions for her about a case.”

“For once, your timing is impeccable,” said Thomas. “She got back just a few minutes ago. She’s in her office now. I can put you through to her, if you’d like.”

“Sure, that’d be great, thanks,” I said. Man, it was _weird_ to hear Thomas speak like a helpful receptionist. “It’s good to talk to you. You sound… happy.”

“I think I am,” said Thomas as Karrin’s phone rang. “I hope to hear from you soon, maybe under better circumstances.”

“How do you know the circumstances are bad?” I asked.

Thomas heaved an exasperated sigh. “You’re calling the Brighter Future Society asking to talk to Karrin about a case. Of course the circumstances are bad.”

“What circumstances are bad?” asked Karrin as she picked up the phone.

“Murphy, it’s me,” I said, and I heard the click of Thomas’s line going dead.

“Harry? I was just going to try to get ahold of you,” said Murphy. “Weird coincidence.”

“What were you going to call me about?” I asked.

“I wanted to talk to you about a missing woman,” said Murphy.

“Weird coincidence indeed. I was calling about a murdered woman.”

“Think they’re one and the same?” Murphy said. “My gal is named Mary Price, age thirty-three. Officially, she worked for a small advertising agency downtown, but I checked it out, and the owner of that business is a false identity that we—” I knew by _we_ she meant the Chicago Alliance, “—know to be an alias of the Archive.”

“Sounds like it’s the same case,” I said. “I don’t have any leads for you, unfortunately. She died in Mab’s territory, so Mab’s on the hook for not ensuring her safety. She was alone, which means she was specifically targeted, and therefore her death is a breach of the Unseelie Accords.”

“So you’re investigating her murder,” said Murphy. I could hear the wheels turning in her head. “But since you’re the Winter Knight, you’re biased. Isn’t that a conflict of interest?”

“Mab’s accuser is the Archive,” I said. “Ivy knows exactly how I feel about Mab. And besides, you’ve said it yourself. I have somewhat of a reputation for solving this kind of thing.”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right,” said Murphy with a sigh. “I still have a few contacts on the force. They’re following up with Mary’s family, but none of them look like they did it. Mary’s boyfriend has an airtight alibi, and her sister was the one who reported her missing.”

“Could just be a ruse,” I said.

“Yes, Harry, I know,” said Murphy, the faintest note of amusement in her voice. “I _have_ done this before, remember? I’ll keep Ivy in the loop of the police investigation.”

“Of course.” I cleared my throat. “How’s—how’s Maggie?”

“She’s doing well,” Murphy said. “I check up on her and Mouse every now and then. Her grades are good, and she’s enjoying school.” She paused. “She asks about you a lot.”

“What do you tell her?” I was surprised at how rough my voice sounded, but Murphy didn’t mention it.

“I tell her the truth, when I can. I tell her that you’re brave and good, and that you’re making the world a safer place for people like her. I tell her that you love her very much.”

Karrin was a good friend. “Thanks,” I said.

“Of course,” said Karrin. “I think you should visit her more often as well. She has questions that only you can answer.”

“I know,” I said. “I know I can’t give her the kind of life that the Carpenters can give her, but I want to be part of it anyways. But I can’t put her in danger, Murphy, I just _can’t,_ and right now, she’d only end up hurt even more.”

Murphy sighed. “You’re right. But she deserves answers, and I think she’s safer than even you know. She has Mouse and Michael and Charity, and I’m not sure about the specifics, but I think that living in the Carpenter household gives her some kind of angelic protection as well. And she’s got me,” she added staunchly. “You know I’d give my life for that girl.”

“I hope it never comes to that,” I said. “But how are you doing? I know I haven’t been around much lately—”

“—Or at all,” said Murphy.

“But I’m trying to change that,” I said, ignoring her interruption. “I haven’t treated you or Thomas or Michael fairly, and I’m sorry about that. I’m going to do better.”

Murphy took her time considering her answer, and I had to feed another coin into the payphone. “I’m doing alright, all things considered,” she said finally. “I’m holding on.”

“That’s all we can do sometimes, isn’t it?” I said. I almost told her about Merlin, but I stopped at the last second. Not that I didn’t think she could handle the truth. I knew I didn’t need to protect her from that. But like Mab had said, it was best if Merlin introduced himself, if he and Karrin ever had cause to meet. I wasn’t sure if I would be able to explain properly, and Merlin deserved the chance to tell his own story.

Murphy and I chatted for a few minutes more. She updated me on the state of things in Chicago and the latest projects that the Chicago Alliance had undertaken, and I told her about Demonreach and some of my various magical projects, like crafting a replacement for my shield bracelet. Eventually, though, Murphy had to return to work, and I had an investigation to conduct. We exchanged promises to keep each other in the loop about this case, though I wasn’t sure if either of us would be able to fulfill those promises, and I eventually hung up.

I had some time to kill before Merlin returned, so I spent that time thinking. I was still struggling to come to terms with what Merlin had told me. I wasn’t sure I liked the idea of being a reflection of someone else, if that was the case. Merlin hadn’t been very clear. Was everything in Shadow a reflection of something in Amber or the Courts of Chaos, or did we have any chance for uniqueness, for free will?. I was concerned about something else Merlin had said, as well. I had thought that the Outer Gates were the only way in from Outside, and even then, only a mortal could open them. Obviously, though, Merlin had some other way in. Could Outsiders use a similar method? I would have to ask Mab, though I doubted she would tell me.

Finally, it was time to meet up with Merlin again. We made our way down to the quay where Mab’s boat was moored. “Look,” he said as we walked, “I’m not familiar with the politics of this place. I don’t know who we’re investigating or why.”

I was surprised. “Mab seemed to know you pretty well.”

“She helped me out a while ago, back when I was in college. I did something stupid, and she protected me from the consequences of my actions.”

“What did you do?” I asked.

“A story for another time.” said Merlin. “Let’s focus on the job for now. Give me the background that I’m missing.”

“The Archive is kind of a repository of all human knowledge,” I said. “I call her Ivy. She’s a person, and _The Archive_ just seems so… impersonal. The Unseelie Accords are a set of agreements between major supernatural powers. The Faerie Courts and Ivy are both signatories. Ivy’s messenger was supposed to be granted safe passage, and her death in Winter territory would be a breach of the Accords if Mab or members of her Court had anything to do with it.”

“But she can’t lie, right? And she said she was innocent.”

“Sidhe are tricky. She may have left herself some loophole, something that we didn’t catch.” I doubted it though. She had been unusually direct. Still, that could have been a ploy to get me to believe her. And besides, when had Mab ever spoken or acted without some hidden meaning? Thinking in circles would get me nowhere. “Is there anything else you want to know?” I asked.

Merlin shook his head. “I understand well enough for now.”

We had arrived at Mab’s boat, and Merlin eyed the Sidhe warily as we embarked. They shied away from him when he got near, and I noticed that they did their best to avoid interacting with anything he had touched, even going so far as to skirt around the areas of the deck he had walked on. Merlin frowned but didn’t comment. Interesting. Could the Sidhe sense that Merlin wasn’t entirely of this world?

Merlin became visibly uncomfortable as we neared Demonreach. “That feeling is normal,” I said. “Part of the island’s defenses.”

“Does it get better?”

“Not really.”

“I’ll set up a ward,” said Merlin. “It should protect me from the brunt of it.”

“Let me go first when we get there,” I said. “Don’t set foot on the island until I say it’s safe. The spirit of the island isn’t very welcoming, even at the best of times. And I know you’re not an Outsider, but it still might take offense.”

“The island has a spirit?” said Merlin. “I suppose that explains the...” he waved his hand vaguely.

“Yes. Its name is Alfred.”

“Alfred.”

“Yes, like in Batman. Wait, do you know what Batman is?”

Merlin laughed. “I know what Batman is. I’ve been living in this Shadow for a while.”

“Right. About that. Why here? I mean, you’re _royalty_ , apparently. Why aren’t you off somewhere else, being… royal?”

“My father spent a lot of time here. Some of us—from Amber or the Courts, I mean—we’d rather travel than stay in one place. It can get a bit stifling, especially after a few hundred years, or so I’m told. So we sometimes find other homes in Shadow and lead other lives.”

“A few hundred years?” I repeated. “How old are you?”

“How old do I look?” asked Merlin.

I took stock of him. He was younger than me and tanned, with dark hair and light eyes and a scrap of rope tied around his wrist. He wore faded jeans and a lilac button down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. “Late twenties, if I had to guess.”

“That’s pretty close,” Merlin said. “I think. Different Shadows have different time streams. I’ve traveled enough that birthdays don’t mean much to me.”

“Are you mortal?” I asked.

Merlin laughed. “I think so. I can be killed, at least, but it’s very difficult, and I don’t suggest trying it.”

Demonreach loomed in the distance. “We’re getting close,” I said, and Merlin nodded. We didn’t speak again until the Sidhe pulled next to the Whatsup Dock. I jumped onto the dock, caught the rope that one of the sailors threw me, and secured the boat. Merlin remained onboard as I made my way to the beach.

“Alfred!” I called as soon as my feet hit the sand, and I felt rather than saw a looming presence in the trees beyond the beach. “A man named Merlin is on a boat at the dock. He’s a little weird, but he’s working with me. He knows Mab as well. Could you do your best not to smite him?” I sensed disapproving assent, and I motioned to Merlin to come ashore.

_HE USES STRANGE MAGIC,_ Alfred boomed.

“Yes. Like I said, a little weird. But he’s alright, really.”

_IS HE? WE SHALL SEE._

“That’s reassuring,” I muttered. Then, as Merlin came into earshot: “Does your ward work?”

“I think so,” said Merlin. “The feeling is still there, but it’s not as bad.”

“If you want, you can stay at that cottage up there.” I pointed to the top of the hill. “Or you can try to find somewhere down here that’s habitable. It’s mostly rubble here, though.”

“I think I’ll take my chances with the cottage,” Merlin said after a quick look around.

“This way, then,” and I led him up a winding footpath that I was slowly wearing through the forest of Demonreach. “I’ve been making some repairs. It’s an ongoing process,” I said when we reached the cottage.

Merlin shrugged. “I’ve stayed in worse. There’s still some daylight left, though. Shouldn’t we… I don’t know… put in some legwork? Isn’t that what detectives do?”

“Not until we hear back from Ivy,” I said. “She’ll be able to answer some of our questions, and we can investigate further from there.” I kicked a few stray pieces of rubble into a corner. “So what do you do? Like, as a prince.”

“I’m a computer programmer. Never was all that interested in the whole _prince_ deal.”

“I guess your magic doesn’t mess with computers, then.”

“Magic native to this Shadow interferes with technology, right? Maybe that’s why Mab wanted me here.”

I shook my head. “No. If she wanted something looked up on the Internet, she could have one of her Court do it. Only mortal magic interferes with technology.”

“Must be something else then.”

“Must be.”

“So what do we do until Ivy responds?”

I thought for a moment. “Do you like parkour?”

\---

Kincaid showed up on the island’s beach early the next day. “Heard you were still out here,” he called as Merlin and I approached. “Wasn’t sure I believed it. Though if anyone is mad enough to live here, it would be you. Who’s this?”

“Merlin. I’m working with Harry on the investigation,” said Merlin, and he reached for a handshake. For a moment I thought Kincaid wouldn’t take it, but he grasped Merlin’s hand briefly.

“Best get going,” Kincaid said with a glance at the sky. “Looks like a storm’s coming.”

“Where are we meeting her?” I asked.

“A safehouse we set up a few years back.”

Apparently, by _safehouse_ Kincaid had meant _the ritziest, most glamorous hotel in the Midwest._ The ornate marble statues by the entrance probably cost more than a year’s rent on my old apartment. The décor inside oozed wealth, opulence for the sake of opulence, all dark paneling and granite water features. Merlin looked a bit uncomfortable, and he fidgeted with the rope around his wrist. Although we were clearly out of place, none of us were afforded second glances as Kincaid led us through the lobby. We took the elevator to the top floor, which appeared to be one large suite. The airy room was a warm and inviting contrast with the rest of the building. The walls were painted a delicate blue, and the wooden columns spaced through the room reminded me of the ones in MacAnally’s. Large potted plants created green dividers and broke the single huge room into smaller, more private alcoves. Sunlight streamed in from the huge windows, illuminating the many bookshelves and giving the whole place a cheerful air.

“Hello, Harry,” came a voice to my right. I looked down to see Ivy with a huge calculus textbook in her hands sitting on a squashy beanbag chair. It was hard to tell, but she looked like she had grown a few inches since I last saw her.

“Hi, Ivy,” I said, laying my staff down and squatting beside her. “This is Merlin.”

“The one you mentioned in your letter.”

I nodded and motioned Merlin to sit beside me.

“What do you want to know?” Ivy asked.

“Tell us about your messenger.”

Ivy looked back down at her textbook, but she didn’t appear to be reading. “Her name was Mary Price. She was thirty-three. Her parents are dead, but her sister and casual boyfriend have been notified and their alibis confirmed, both by my own agents and by the Chicago Police Department. We have her body here still, if you’d like to examine it.”

“Later,” I said. “Did either the sister or the boyfriend have any magical talent?”

“No,” said Ivy. “However, they were both aware of the existence of the supernatural world.”

“How did Mary come to work for you?” said Merlin.

“She applied for the job. Mr. Kincaid checked her over, even though I told him he didn’t need to. He performs a background check on all new employees. He says it makes him feel better.” Ivy chuckled, a little hysterically I thought.

“Did she know about the supernatural before she got the job?”

Ivy nodded. “Oh, yes. Mary had minor magical talent. That’s one of the reasons why I chose her to carry my message to Queen Mab.”

“Who found her?” asked Merlin.

“One of the Winter Court. A guard named Andras.”

“Has an autopsy been conducted?” I asked.

“Yes,” said Ivy. “You may view a copy of it in the morgue here. I believe you know the medical examiner—Waldo Butters?”

“Butters? I—yeah, I know Butters. Why him?”

“There aren’t many medical examiners with a working knowledge of the supernatural who lack magical talent themselves,” Ivy said. “Some of the procedures that needed to be performed on Mary, as I understand, required the use of technologies subject to magical interference.”

“Is there anything else you can tell us about her death? Anything strange or unusual?”

“Mary wore a token that was to grant her safe passage through Faerie,” Ivy replied. “It was not on her body when she was returned to us.”

“When and where did you get the token?” Merlin asked. I pouted. That had been my question.

“It’s one of the… inheritances that come with the Archive,” said Ivy. “I have tokens for all of the signatories of the Unseelie Accords.”

“Could whatever killed Mary have taken the token?”

“Not without a great deal of pain, if they were Fae, that is,” Ivy said. “The tokens for passage through Faerie are made of iron.”

“Do you have a picture or a drawing of it?”

“No, but you can see the Summer Court token if you would like.”

“Yes, please,” I said, and Ivy pulled a tiny bell out from under the beanbag and rang it. A woman appeared from behind a bookshelf on the far side of the room.

“Please fetch the token for safe passage through the Summer Court,” Ivy instructed the woman. The woman nodded and called the elevator, and Ivy turned her attention back to her book. I glanced over her shoulder, but I couldn’t make heads or tails of it. Merlin scanned the nearest bookshelf before selecting a book seemingly at random. He browsed through his book until the woman returned several minutes later bearing a large wooden crate. She opened the crate and withdrew a wooden mannequin head bearing the Summer Court token. A delicately-wrought filigree masquerade mask covered half the face and was attached with slender chains to a wide choker necklace in a similar style. Tiny green gemstones glittered along the edges of the necklace and mask.

“And the Winter Court token looks similar?” Merlin asked.

“Almost identical. The only difference is the color,” said Ivy.

I pulled on my leather gloves and lifted the mannequin head out of the crate. I turned the head this way and that, tossing it in the air and shaking it upside down. Merlin looked slightly scandalized, but Ivy and the woman gazed on impassively. After I finished, Merlin ran his finger along the edge of the mask and quickly jerked back. “It’s cold,” he said.

Ivy nodded. “And the Winter token is warm to the touch. They are enchanted to protect against the extreme weather of their respective Courts’ territories.”

“It’s not something that would fall off easily,” I said.

“Indeed not,” said Ivy.

“What about the message itself?” I asked. “Was it a letter? Was it something Mary had to memorize and repeat?”

“It was written down and magically sealed,” Ivy said. “Only the Winter Queen knows the incantation to unseal the scroll. When Mary’s body came into the possession of the Winter court, the Queen did indeed read it.”

“So the goal wasn’t to stop Mab from reading the message,” said Merlin.

“Not necessarily,” I said. “Mary’s killer might have had to leave the scene before stealing the letter.”

“Did she have any enemies?” asked Merlin.

“I would not have chosen her for this mission if she had,” said Ivy. “She was… good.” She rummaged in her pocket for a moment before pulling out a crumpled card and handing it to me. “This is the date of Mary’s wake. If you wish to attend, be here at ten in the morning.” The date on the card was only a few days hence.

“I’ll do my best to sort this out by then,” I said. “So we can properly celebrate her life.”

And suddenly Ivy, despite all her power, looked like no more than the lonely young girl she was. “Mary was my friend, and I miss her. Whoever did this needs to answer for it.” She stared at me with huge eyes. “Can I trust you to find the killer, even if it means uncovering truths you may not want to know?”

I laid my hand on her shoulder. “Of course,” I said. “Mary deserves justice.”

\---

The morgue at Ivy’s safehouse—and how telling that it should have a morgue at all—was so clean and sterile that it set me on edge. The lab assistant pointed out his office and handed me a manila envelope, then left us to it. Mary’s body was already laid out on an examination table. Merlin opened the envelope to find the autopsy report and began flipping through. The envelope contained a second file from the Chicago Police Department. It told me little I didn’t already know, but it had a picture of Mary’s boyfriend and an account of his alibi, along with that of Mary’s sister. Murphy and Ivy had been right. Both Mary’s sister and boyfriend had been working at the time, with plenty of witnesses and camera footage to back them up. I didn’t entirely discard the idea that either one of them might be guilty, but under the circumstances, it seemed unlikely.

“Mab said she was stabbed, right?” Merlin asked a minute later.

“‘An icicle through the heart’ were her exact words,” I said.

“Well, she’s technically correct,” said Merlin with a wry smile. “According to the medical examiner, there is no entry wound, only exit wounds, and there’s no sign of a foreign substance within the heart. He says here that it appears as though her frozen blood erupted out of her chest and back, as if someone used it to create an icicle inside her heart.”

“Fuck,” I breathed. Merlin nodded his agreement, and we stood silently for a few minutes. “I’m going to try something,” I said. “I need you to stand back by the wall.”

“Alright,” said Merlin as he stepped away from the body. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to use something called the Sight. It will help me see any residual magic that’s still clinging to her.”

“That would help identify the killer, right?”

“Maybe. Shush.” I focused on opening my third eye. The room around me changed subtly: the shadows shifted just a little bit, and if I wanted, I knew I could look into them and see the countless corpses and grim surgeries they had witnessed. I turned my gaze to Mary, a curdled, smoky mass on a bloodstained table that had been clean last time I looked. Blue and silver magic glimmered faintly on her face and around her neck. It must have been the remains of the protective enchantments on the Winter Court token. The wound glistened with magic as well, a translucent grey shot through with indigo, dark green, and violet that pooled like congealed blood.

I saw movement out of the corner of my eye, and I glanced its way and recoiled. A… _something_ stood near the table, and around its face and upper body clung what looked like a twisted labyrinth or a tattered spiderweb. It pulsated and writhed against the _something’s_ skin, almost snake-like. The outline of the creature was human, but what should have been in the silhouette had been replaced by a massive dark grey demon. I could only catch glimpses of the demon, as though I were looking through a human-shaped keyhole at an image too big to see. I could see something else etched onto the demon’s skin, something that I knew sunk into its very bones, something that glowed blue and sinister against the demon’s dark form. I knew it wasn’t just a tattoo. It was part of the demon’s very being. I instinctively raised my hand, a spell on my lips, before I took a closer look.

It was Merlin. He turned to me, and I saw his eyes for the first time. I jumped back at his burning violet gaze framed by the twisting _thing_ and finally, _finally_ shut off my Sight.

“What the hell?” I said, my eyes screwed shut.

“Harry?” said Merlin, concerned.

“What the _hell?”_ I repeated. I looked at Merlin through one barely opened eyelid. “You’re not human. You’re not even _close._ ”

Merlin shifted uncomfortably. “Well, yeah,” he said. “I thought we covered that.”

“I told you to stand by the wall.”

“And you expected me to obey?” Merlin raised an eyebrow.

“What was that thing around your eyes?” I said. “That snake thing.”

“Do you mean the Logrus?” Merlin asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Well, you used—the Sight, was it?—to try to see if Mary still had any magic on her. I can do something similar with the Logrus.”

“What _is_ the Logrus?” I asked.

“I’m not sure if there’s anyone alive who can say what exactly the Logrus is. My step-brother says that it’s part of the foundation of reality, all realities, everywhere, and the Courts of Chaos are built on top of it. It’s what lets me manipulate Shadow. I had to essay it, the real Logrus—it’s kind of a three-dimensional obstacle course, always shifting and very _very_ loud, back in the Courts.”

I took several deep breaths to get my heart rate under control. “I see.” That was a lie. “And what was that other thing? It was on you. _In_ you, kind of. It looked a bit like a labyrinth, but all blue and glowy.”

“That was probably the Pattern. It’s Amber’s equivalent of the Logrus—sort of the embodiment of Order, like the Logrus is the embodiment of Chaos. I’ve walked it too. I’m one of the few people who have done both, or are even able to.” Merlin sighed heavily. “When you walk them, they restructure you. Rewrite you, almost. You feel like you’re being destroyed and rebuilt. It changes you fundamentally. I’m not surprised you saw them.”

The full weight of Merlin’s otherness hit me then. He wasn’t any supernatural creature I’d ever seen or heard of, and no matter what he said, he wasn’t mortal.

“By the way, a lighthouse beam was coming from your forehead,” said Merlin, his face serious. “You might want to get that checked out.”

I rubbed at the space between my eyes. I had seen something similar when Molly verified my identity when I was a ghost. “I think that was you seeing the Sight,” I said.

“Weird,” said Merlin. “What did you find out? I saw something blue and kind of silvery, right around here.” He gestured around his eyes. “And around the wound, it was almost black. It kind of looked like...”

“The walls of Arctis Tor,” I finished. “I noticed. I don’t know if it’s good news or bad news.”

“What do you mean?”

“It might be good because I’ve never seen Winter magic that looks like that.”

“And it might be bad because you’ve never seen any magic that looks like that?” Merlin guessed.

“Bingo.”

\---

_“_ So what’s our next move?” Merlin asked.

One of Ivy’s employees had been kind enough to chauffeur us to MacAnally’s, where we ate a steak sandwich apiece for lunch. We had both flipped through Butters’s autopsy report as well as Murphy’s update. Butters had been as thorough as ever, but unfortunately, his report hadn’t given me or Merlin any new clues.

“What do you think?” I replied through a mouthful of steak.

“We should talk to that guard Andras,” said Merlin after a moment of consideration. “He’ll be able to tell us more about how he found Mary.”

I nodded with approval. “I’ll speak with the captain of the guard and see when Andras is available for questioning.”

“We’ll be going to Arctis Tor, then,” Merlin said.

I nodded. “You’ve been there before, haven’t you?”

“Mab kept me there back when she… helped me.”

“Right. About that. What exactly did Mab help you with?”

Merlin fidgeted with his fork. “I made a stupid mistake, and she prevented anyone from getting hurt.”

“Did you ask for her help specifically?”

“Kind of.”

“Kind of?”

“I didn’t know who she was,” said Merlin with a sigh of frustration. “I was high as a kite and I couldn’t tell what was real, and suddenly there was this woman in front of me who offered to protect me, and I said yes. I was terrified and hallucinating, and I thought she was just another figment of my imagination.”

“That doesn’t make sense. Why would the Queen care about you? No offense.”

“You seem to say offensive things and then ask that I not be offended a lot,” Merlin said.

“You’re avoiding the question. No offense,” because I’m petty.

Merlin didn’t answer for a minute. “Remember the whole walking-through-Shadow deal I told you about earlier?” I nodded, and he continued. “The key to it is the desire and the determination to impose my will on the world around me.”

“Sounds about on par for magic,” I said, and Merlin laughed without mirth.

“Kind of. I was at a party, and the host offered us all some stuff. I took a psychedelic and ended up wandering the campus of UC Berkeley on a trip from Hell. Literally, as it turns out. I had gone somewhere bad—I still don’t know where—and some… things, some terrible things, followed me back. Mab took care of them before they did much more than flip a few cars and uproot a tree or two.”

“Why did you want to go to—wherever it was that you went?” I asked. “If walking through Shadow is about your will, then why did you will yourself to a place like that?”

“It was an accident,” said Merlin. “It was out of my control.”

“Why did you take a hallucinogen in the first place?”

“Fuck,” huffed Merlin. “I don’t know. I was bored and stupid. I wanted to see what it was like. Maybe a bit of morbid curiosity. Like you never did anything dumb in college.”

“Not all of us have a royal treasury that can get us into Berkeley,” I retorted.

“I had an athletic scholarship and maintained a 3.8 GPA. Don’t fucking tell me that my family’s money was the reason I got in.”

The few other patrons were starting to stare. “Come on,” I said, and I left a heavy tip on the table. “We need to go talk to Andras.”

“How close to Arctis Tor can you get us?” Merlin asked as we left.

The question pulled me up short. “I’ve never gotten directly to Arctis Tor myself,” I admitted.

“But you’re the Winter Knight.”

“It takes a lot of energy to open a gate to the Nevernever, especially into the heart of one of the most heavily-guarded places in Faerie,” I said. “And I avoid going there as much as possible.”

“I might be able to get us close,” said Merlin. “I remember it well enough. Forest Glen Woods is pretty heavily forested, right?”

I blinked once or twice. “Yeah, but why—?”

“Let’s go.” Merlin cut me off, and I felt a bit put out. Being mysterious and wizardly was supposed to be _my_ job, damnit.

By sheer luck, we ended up being a short taxi ride from Forest Glen Woods. The radio in the taxi blew out within a minute, and I spent the rest of the trip missing the Blue Beetle. Merlin paid the driver while I extricated myself from the cramped seat. It had been a long time since I had visited, and I wasn’t wanting for immersion in nature these days. Still, the trees seemed to welcome a small feral part of me, the one I told myself was put there by the Winter Mantle.

“Nice park,” Merlin commented after the driver left. He set a brisk pace along the path for a few hundred yards until we were well out of sight of the trailhead and wiggled his arms with the same strange, jellyfish-like motion as before. He pulled a full set of heavy winter gear from somewhere out of Shadow and tossed it on the ground at his feet. “What size are you?” he asked, eyeing me critically.

“I’ll be fine,” I said.

“Winter Knight powers?”

“Winter Knight powers.”

Merlin donned his gear and set off down the path again. “I’m going to start manipulating Shadow soon,” he said. “I need to focus. I’ll be making pretty drastic terrain changes in a short amount of time, and it will take a lot of concentration.”

I mimed locking my lips and throwing away the key.

“What if you need to cast a spell?” said Merlin, looking so genuinely quizzical that I couldn’t help but chuckle.

The temperature dropped drastically as we made our way along the trail. It had been a pleasant spring day, but now it was cold enough to make me shiver despite the Winter Mantle’s power. The trees around me changed from budding oaks and maples to twisted pines and firs, and snow began to fall. The path rapidly deteriorated to what was barely more than a game trail. I glanced up. “Um, Merlin, I just want to let you know… the clouds are lavender.”

“I know,” he said through gritted teeth. “I had to give up the sky so I could get the trees right.”

I suddenly had a very good idea of what it must sound like to people like Murphy or Butters when I talked about spells and rituals and other wizardly things.

“We’re getting close,” said Merlin a minute later. “Just a bit longer.”

We emerged from the trees onto a field of snow nestled in the saddle of a mountain. Merlin fell to his knees and then on all fours, breathing heavily.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Fine,” said Merlin. “It took a lot out of me.”

I hoisted him up by the arm. “Come on, we can’t stop here.” Arctis Tor shone in the distance, its massive spire reaching up to claw at the sky. Merlin had delivered us no more than a half hour’s hike from the gates. “Good work,” I said, and I clapped him on the back.

We set off toward the icy fortress, but the howling winds of Winter soon had Merlin shivering. “I can’t warm us with fire magic,” I said. “Fire is an aspect of Summer. It would call too much attention to us.”

“And you need to keep the balance,” said Merlin through chattering teeth. “I think I know a spell that can help.”

We continued on in silence for a few minutes, and Merlin’s shivering only grew more violent. “So, are you going to cast that spell, or…?” I said.

“I’m working on it,” said Merlin. “It takes time to set up.” He spoke a few words in a language I didn’t recognize, and a twisting grey cocoon appeared around him briefly before fading into invisibility. He sighed in relief. “That’s better.” He caught the look on my face. “Don’t worry, it’s not fire magic. I don’t think it would matter if it were, though.”

“I’ve seen what happens when you bring Summer fire into Winter,” I said. “It’s not something I want to see again.”

“That’s the thing. It’s not Summer fire. It’s not part of this Shadow at all.”

I considered that for a moment. “It’s not subject to the rules of this… Shadow, then? It won’t attract attention because it won’t set off any alarms.”

“That’s the idea,” said Merlin with a grin.

We continued on for half an hour in silence before Merlin let out a yelp. He held his arm straight out from his body and pivoted on the spot. “Ow! Not so hard,” he said in the direction of his wrist. Then, pointing off to the left of where we had been heading, “over there?” Something seemed to confirm his question, and he lowered his arm. “Danger’s coming from that way,” he informed me.

I squinted at him. “What danger?”

“I don’t know. Frakir—my, uh, my rope bracelet—she can’t tell me specifics.”

“Your rope bracelet can tell if you’re in danger, but it can’t tell you anything more than that?”

“Don’t be too hard on her. She’s just a piece of rope.”

“She?”

“I can explain later. Something is coming.”

I readied my staff and made sure my duster didn’t obscure my copper bracelet. A pack of malks streamed from behind a bend in the path and surrounded us. The horde advanced, pressing me back to back with Merlin.

“Winter Knight,” one hissed.

“The other wields strange magic,” said another, lashing its tail. “He may be dangerous.”

“You better believe it,” Merlin muttered, and a chorus of hisses sounded. I elbowed him hard.

“Shut up,” I whispered, though the pack of malk would surely hear. “Queen Mab has been accused of a crime she did not commit,” I said, loud enough to carry. “Our task is to prove her innocence. He uses his magic in service of our Queen. He is a danger only to her enemies.”

The largest malk broke ranks and sniffed the ground at Merlin’s feet. “He is an anomaly,” it said. “He must not be allowed into the heart of Winter.”

“I have been there before,” said Merlin. “Queen Mab herself gave me shelter.” A chorus of hisses arose.

“It’s true,” I said. “I can vouch for him.”

The largest malk tilted its head from side to side, studying Merlin. “The Winter Queen has heard your invocation,” it hissed eventually. “She bids me to let you pass.” The crowd of malks parted.

I led Merlin through the gap, staying as far from the creatures as I could. We continued along the narrow path to Arctis Tor, and I could sense rather than see the pack of malk stalking behind.

We reached the wall surrounding the icy fortress without further incident. Two Sidhe guards stood on either side of the gate.

“Winter Knight,” one said as we approached. Her eyes narrowed as she examined Merlin. “Is this man your prisoner?”

“Uh, no. We need to talk to someone named Andras,” I said. “Any idea where we can find him?”

The two Sidhe glanced at each other briefly. “Captain Magali may know,” said the one who spoke previously.

“Where can we find Captain Magali?” Merlin asked.

“The barracks are against the wall on the far side,” said the other Sidhe, pointing.

I nodded my thanks, and Merlin and I set off in the direction the Sidhe had indicated.

“He didn’t actually tell us where to find the captain,” said Merlin after we had gotten about halfway around Arctis Tor.

_“_ _Sidhe,”_ I said. “It’s still worth a shot. Even if we don’t find Magali, we might run into someone who knows where Andras is or even Andras himself.” A thought hit me then. “If I wanted to frame Mab for killing Mary, or at least make her appear in violation of the Unseelie Accords, I’d plant the Winter token in Arctis Tor. Someplace where it would be found by an investigator but not by anyone loyal to her, and someplace that points to Mab herself.”

“Where can Mab go that no one else can go?” Merlin asked.

“Wrong question,” I said. “Which places appear like places she would go, even though she doesn’t actually go there? And which of those places would someone who isn’t Mab be able to access without detection?”

“You know Arctis Tor better than I do,” said Merlin.

A chill ran down my spine. “It might be in my room,” I said. “It’s not often used, it’s not heavily guarded, and it would imply that Mab ordered the murder, rather than just allowed it through negligence. It would call into question my entire investigation. It’s a stretch, I know, but we need to start somewhere.”

“You have a room here?” Merlin asked.

“Sort of. Mab threw me a birthday party.”

“That was kind of her.”

I snorted. “It wasn’t out of kindness.”

The guard barracks came into sight. A Sidhe emerged from the doorway, and I flagged him down. “We’re looking for Andras,” I said. “If he’s not here, then we’re looking for Captain Magali.”

“You should look inside,” said the Sidhe, tilting his head in the direction of the barracks, and he brushed past me without another word.

“The Sidhe are being… helpful,” I said. “Well, not quite, but none of them have intentionally misdirected me.”

“They’re not usually like this?” said Merlin. “I thought it had something to do with being the Winter Knight.”

I shook my head. “No, they usually love sending me off in the wrong direction. Not out of malice; that’s just how Sidhe are. Didn’t they do that to you when you were here?”

“Not really,” said Merlin. “They mostly stayed out of my way. I think they collectively said a total of five words to me.”

“Huh.” Mab’s explicit declaration of innocence ran through my mind again. “Maybe Mab instructed them to cooperate with our investigation.”

“That would make her look good,” Merlin mused. “It would make her look like she has nothing to hide.”

I pushed open the door of the barracks and was hit by a welcome wave of slightly-above-freezing air. A few pairs of guards sparred in one corner of the wood-paneled room, and in another corner, three Sidhe sat around a hewn stone table and played a dice game. A Sidhe whose silver-trimmed armor set her apart made her way across the room to us. “Winter Knight. Prince Merlin,” she said with a nod to each of us in turn. “You wish to speak with Andras.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes,” I said. “Where is he?”

“He is in the chamber shared by his platoon,” she said. Her face remained impassive, but I sensed an undercurrent of resentment. My hunch that Mab had ordered cooperation grew stronger. “Down the hallway to your right, behind the third door on the left.”

“Thank you, Captain,” I said, guessing at her identity, but she had already turned on her heel and gone back to her sparring partner.

Merlin followed me down the hall, and I pushed open the third door on the left without knocking. The room behind it was sparse. Bunk beds lined the stone walls and formed a column down the center of the room. Each bed frame had a wooden trunk at its foot, presumably for the occupants’ personal effects. One bed was occupied by a sandy-haired Sidhe wrapped in a dark silk dressing gown.

“Are you Andras?” I said to the reclining man.

He opened his eyes, a statue coming to life, and examined me and Merlin closely. “Yes.”

“I’m Dresden. This is Merlin. We have a few questions to ask you about Mary.”

“Yes. Captain Magali told me to expect you.” Andras closed his eyes once more and twitched his index finger.

I took the gesture as a sign to begin and suppressed my irritation. “When and where did you find Mary?”

“There’s a grove of trees about half a mile down on the lee side of the mountain. I found her on the edge, just past noon.”

“Were you on patrol?” I asked.

“No.”

“Why were you out there, then?” said Merlin.

“I was designated to meet her.”

“Designated?”

Andras opened one eye, his pupil a cat-like slit. “I was to guide her to Arctis Tor.”

“Who told you when and where to meet her?” I asked.

“An hour before noon, the Winter Queen herself sought me out and told me where to go,” Andras said. I heard the faintest note of pride in his voice.

“That makes sense,” said Merlin. “Only the Queen knew ahead of time when Mary would arrive. Safer that way. Why did she choose you to meet Mary, though?”

Andras’s eyes flickered to Merlin, and he shifted uncomfortably on the bed. “I volunteered,” he said to the ceiling above Merlin’s head. “I spent some time with Mary during her previous meetings with the Queen. I was… fond of her.”

I was familiar with the fondness of Winter creatures, but Andras didn’t seem to share Maeve’s joy for cruelty or Mab’s frigid regard. He was nothing like the Sidhe who had tortured Lily while she was Maeve’s captive. It was almost as though…

“Did you love her, Andras?” I asked.

Andras remained silent for several seconds. “She was bright,” he finally said. “She was warm in a way that I never knew I wanted until I met her. The woman who killed her…” His hand curled into a fist. “I want her dead.”

“How do you know a woman killed her?” I asked.

“I saw her.”

“You saw her fleeing the scene?” asked Merlin.

“No,” Andras said. “I saw her kill Mary.”

“Why didn’t you tell us earlier?” I said.

“I’m telling you now.”

I took a deep breath and gathered my patience. I would need every ounce of it to deal with an emotionally pained Sidhe. “I understand how you’re feeling,” I said. “I know it’s hard to watch someone you care for die. But I need you to focus and tell me everything you remember about this woman.”

I could almost see the walls that Andras had built crumbling around him. “Do you understand, wizard? Truly? Death is a fact of mortal life. You must grow to accept it. Mary did. But for me, death is not an eventuality. Death is not an end. Even if killed in battle, I rise again.”

I knew that wasn’t entirely true, but I kept my mouth shut.

“I was not… prepared for this,” Andras continued. “I knew it would happen eventually, but I had hoped we would have more time.”

“Help us avenge her,” Merlin said. “It won’t bring her back, of course, but your memories of her will be brighter if you help bring justice to her killer.”

Andras nodded and squared his shoulders.

“Right then,” I said. “Tell me about the scene. Any footprints? Anything dropped or left by an attacker?”

“No footprints except her own,” said Andras. “She was face-down and covered in snow. It looked like she had tumbled down the slope a bit.”

“I’ll want to look over the scene,” I said. “Will you show me where you found her?”

Andras sat up fully. “We can go now.” He retrieved a set of dark leather armor from the trunk at his bed and stripped down, completely unselfconscious. Merlin and I turned away while Andras clothed himself and donned his armor.

Merlin cast the grey cocoon spell again just before we followed Andras out of the barracks. The Sidhe barely reacted, but during my time at Arctis Tor, I had learned to read the emotions hidden behind the flawless immortal masks. Andras was afraid. And, if I were being honest with myself, I was afraid, too.

No one spoke until we reached the spot where Mary had died. “Stand back,” I said to Merlin. “That weird demon thing is distracting.”

“How do you know about my demon form?” Merlin asked.

“That is _so_ not the response I wanted,” I said.

Merlin ducked his head and took a position behind me. I steeled myself and opened my Sight. The colors around me became brighter, and Winter came alive. I saw flashes of energy running through the earth like underground rivers in blue and purple. Every snowflake and ice crystal on the trees took my breath away. It was a beautiful place to die. I immediately cursed myself for the thought and focused instead on the spot Andras indicated. Scarlet energy pooled like blood where Mary had lain, and I followed it up the slope through the thin grove of trees. I couldn’t find anything to indicate where her attacker had stood. Any tracks, including Mary’s blood and the trail she had made during her tumble, had been driven away with the snow.

Andras stood rather limply, staring at the spot where Mary’s body had come to rest. Merlin moved to his side. “Can you tell us about the attack?” he asked, his voice soft.

Andras said nothing for a few moments, then turned to face Merlin fully for the first time. “The killer stood on that boulder—” he pointed to a pillar of stone a few inches taller than me and a dozen yards from where Mary’s body had lain, “—and she waited until, I assume, she could see Mary. She pointed a wand at her, and blood erupted from Mary’s chest. Mary fell to her knees and tumbled to the edge of the trees. The woman walked to her, removed the token she wore, then opened a gate back to the mortal world, rather inelegantly, I must say—she required the use of another wand—and stepped through.”

I rushed to the boulder and scaled it as quickly as I could. I didn’t need to use the Sight to feel the chill of dark magic, but I did anyway. There, dripped at my feet, was the same magic that surrounded Mary’s heart.

“What did the woman look like?” Merlin asked.

“I only saw her face in profile,” said Andras. “But she had a large nose, kind of hooked, and her skin was dusky. Her height was hard to gauge from a distance. She was maybe half a foot shorter than the boulder she stood on.”

“Why didn’t you tell Mab this?” said Merlin.

Andras looked affronted. “I did.”

I scrambled down from the boulder. “Do you think this woman saw you?”

“If she did, she gave no indication,” Andras said.

“We need to talk to Ivy again,” I said to Merlin. “The woman knew Mary would be here. We need to figure out who knew that Mary would be taking a message to the Queen.”

Merlin glanced at the sun. “Maybe tomorrow? It’s getting late.”

“Tomorrow,” I agreed. “We might have more questions later,” I said to Andras. “Don’t leave town.”

Andras raised an eyebrow at me. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

“You can go,” I said. “I’m going to keep looking around here.”

Andras bowed to me slightly. “Winter Knight. Merlin.” He turned and started on his way back to Arctis Tor.

I examined the scene for a few more minutes to give Andras a head start. “What do you think?” I asked Merlin as the Sidhe’s form disappeared behind a crag.

“I’m not sure. He might not have told us everything. He was quick to answer our questions, which makes me a bit suspicious. I was expecting him to be a bit more obstinate.”

“I know,” I said. “I was surprised as well. Still, he did love Mary, it seems. Strange, but not unheard of.”

“You don’t think he could possibly be…” Merlin tapped his forehead.

“Infected?” I said, and Merlin nodded. “No,” I continued. “If he were, he wouldn’t have given us any reason to be suspicious.”

Merlin seemed to accept that. “Do you still want to search your room in Arctis Tor?” he asked.

I considered for a moment. “No,” I decided. “According to Andras, the murderer took the token with her, and I’d rather not spend any more time here than I have to.”

Merlin nodded in understanding. “It really is beautiful,” he said, gazing at the stark mountaintops surrounding us. “Vicious and cruel, but beautiful.”

“I know,” I said. I was intimately familiar with Winter’s dangerous allure. “Can you get us back to Chicago? It takes a lot of energy for me to open a gate to the mortal world here, and I’m not entirely sure where we’d end up.”

Merlin nodded, and I followed him back to the forest. The journey to Chicago took longer; I supposed Merlin must have been tired. The sun had just dipped below the horizon when Forest Glen Woods settled securely around us. Merlin reached through Shadow to scrounge up enough money to pay for a cab to the marina. We bought dinner from one of the nearby vendors and made our way to where my boat boat still waited for our return.

\---

The evening on the island was almost… pleasant. It took me by surprise. I hadn’t experienced simple, calm pleasantness in so long. After writing a message to Ivy summarizing the day’s findings and requesting another audience, I built a low campfire in the ruined cottage. The smoke vented through the broken roof, and Merlin and I reclined in Crazy Creeks that Merlin had pulled out of Shadow.

“Tell me about your home,” I said, still laughing, after Merlin finished a story involving his best friend, a large pot of spaghetti, and a surfboard. “Tell me about Amber and Chaos.”

Merlin’s mirth subsided and he eyed me with suspicion. “Why do you ask?”

“Curious, that’s all.” Merlin didn’t answer, and I sighed. “I believe Mab when she says you’re not an Outsider. But up until now, Outsiders were the only things I knew about that weren’t from this universe. And sometimes I forget and I almost think you’re human, but you’re very clearly _not.”_ I shut my mouth then before I could shove my foot even further in.

Merlin didn’t seem too offended though. “You _were_ made in our image,” he said.

I snorted. “I know a few guys who would take some offense to that.”

“It’s true, though,” Merlin insisted. “Well, maybe not the _made_ part. But you look the way you do because you look like us. The people of Amber, I mean. You’re a reflection of us. Them.”

“A Shadow,” I said, and Merlin nodded. “What does that mean? I still don’t understand.”

Merlin appeared to be searching for the right words to explain.“Shadow is… malleable, if you have the right kind of power,” he said after some time. “That’s how I can pull things to me. Amber and Chaos are fundamental, though. They’re not Shadows themselves, but they cast Shadows, like dropping a pebble in a pond. Yours is just one of an infinite number of possibilities.”

“So what’s Amber like? Or Chaos. Either, really.”

Merlin smiled faintly. “I grew up in the Courts of Chaos, so I’ve only been to Amber a few times. It’s… incredible. The city is built on the slope of a mountain, and on top of the mountain is the palace. The eastern face of the mountain is a sheer cliff, and at the bottom there’s this beautiful beach with tiger-striped sand. The Forest of Arden lies in every other direction. Everything is more lively, more solid, I guess. I don’t know if you’d notice anything different. It might be just another city to you. For me, though, and for the people of Amber, it’s home.”

“How is it home if you’ve only been there a few times?” I asked, amused.

“I don’t know,” said Merlin. “I can’t really describe it. But have you ever felt like you’re coming home to a place you’ve never been before?” A smile quirked the corner of his mouth, but I missed the joke, if there was one.

My thoughts turned to long hours spent working at Ebenezar’s farm and the tranquil exhaustion that came from hard physical labor. “Yes.”

“Then you know,” said Merlin. “That’s what Amber is to us. We can find beautiful and wondrous things in Shadow, but we always long for the Substance of Amber. And of Chaos,” he added, almost as an afterthought.

I rocked back and forth in my Crazy Creek. “I saw you with my Sight,” I said.

“I know,” said Merlin, smiling. “I saw you See me with your Sight.”

I ignored the joke. “I Saw a demon.”

“Oh, that? I’m a shapeshifter.” He shrugged as though shapeshifting weren’t a complex and dangerous branch of magic that often destroyed the practitioner’s mind. “Everyone in the Courts is, to one degree or another. Most of us have a form we prefer to take. That’s probably what you saw.”

“Why is that your favorite form?” I asked.

Merlin shrugged. “Looks cool.” Firelight and shadow played over his face. I knew I wasn’t getting the full answer, but I let it go for now.

“I know a wizard who’s a shapeshifter,” I said. “He pretty much just shifts into different animals, though.”

“That’s the extent of shapeshifting in this Shadow, right?” asked Merlin.

“What else would it be?”

Merlin held up his hand, and the fingers slowly stretched a few inches and retracted back to normal. I stared, fascinated. “I can manipulate my physical form a bit. Not much, at least in this form, because it puts some physical strain on my body. But I can sort of… redistribute my mass.”

“I don’t understand how that works.”

Merlin raised an eyebrow. “I’m going to guess it’s magic.”

“Well _yes,_ but you can’t just do anything with magic. It has rules.”

“Probably, but I have no idea what they are.”

I sighed. “When shapeshifters here want to take a form with a different mass, they have to exchange energy with the Nevernever. And I have no idea how or why… _redistribution_ would work. I couldn’t just shove some of the mass from my leg into my foot without putting extra pressure on the tissues and bones in my foot and probably causing a lot of damage.”

“If it makes you feel better,” Merlin offered after a brief silence, “I don’t think there’s anyone alive who really knows how Pattern and Logrus magic work.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better, strangely enough. Has no one tried to investigate how it works?”

“A few,” said Merlin.

“And?”

“And what?”

I sighed in frustration. After a day of dealing with Faeries, I was not in the mood for getting answers from Merlin like pulling teeth. “And what did they find out?”

“Hard to say. Mostly they went insane, and any useful information they might have shared was lost among deranged babblings. It’s a common outcome when studying the inner workings of Shadow.”

“But they were studying magic, not Shadow.”

“They go together,” said Merlin. “One can’t be examined without the other. Isn’t it the same here? Isn’t magic inextricably linked to life?”

I nodded. “I was taught that magic is the essence of life and creation.”

“Well, there you go.”

“Why does it drive people insane?”

Merlin fiddled with a loose rock. “I don’t know. It could be that those with a predilection for insanity are drawn to the study of Shadow and magic, and it just sort of… breaks their minds. Good luck finding a wholly sane person among the royals of Amber and Chaos, though.”

“Including you?” I asked.

Merlin grinned, and shadow and light danced across his face. For an instant, he looked twisted, inhuman. Demonic. The image faded, and Merlin was a lonely young man again.

I yawned hugely then. I wasn’t as young as Merlin, if my estimate of his age had been correct, and I was getting tired.

Merlin picked up on my mood. “I’m ready to turn in,” he said. “You?”

I nodded and extinguished the fire, and we stretched out on opposite sides of the cottage.

\---

Kincaid arrived early the next morning, and Merlin and I followed him to the marina on Thomas’s motorboat. Ivy was once again on the top floor of the excessively opulent safehouse. I didn’t see her right away, and I was about to call out when I noticed her dragging a piece of string for a fluffy grey kitten that bounced along at her heels. I hushed Merlin before he could say anything. I wanted to let Ivy enjoy her game a bit longer. She already carried too much weight on her young shoulders. Kincaid eyed me out of the corner of his eye, but he didn’t disturb Ivy either.

Ivy noticed us eventually, though. “Harry, Merlin,” she said, nodding to each of us in turn as a maid scurried out from behind a curtain of green and scooped up the kitten. “You wanted to know who among my organization was aware of the time and location of Mary’s mission. I’ve put together a list.” She fetched a scrap of paper from the lip of a nearby flowerpot.

The list only had two names on it. “I think we can rule you out, Kincaid,” I said to the hulking mountain behind me.

“Can we? No offense,” Merlin said hurriedly. “But is there really anyone above suspicion here?”

“Yes,” said Ivy. “Mr. Kincaid did not commit this crime.”

Merlin faced down Kincaid, who glowered. I was impressed with Merlin’s bravery. Kincaid could glower with the best of them. “Do you have an alibi?” Merlin asked.

Kincaid said nothing.

“He doesn’t need one,” said Ivy firmly. “He is completely loyal to me.”

Merlin opened his mouth to argue, but I nudged his side. “Drop it,” I advised. “Ivy says he didn’t do it, so he didn’t do it.”

“I’m sorry,” Merlin said. He sounded like he meant it.

“I understand your suspicion,” said Ivy. “Betrayal is rather common in your family, is it not? I know it can difficult, not having anyone to trust.”

Merlin tensed beside me. “How do you know about my family?” he asked.

“My grandmother and your aunt Florimel purchased art from each other several times,” said Ivy. “Lady Florimel was quite the collector. I have all of my grandmother’s memories.”

“I see,” said Merlin faintly. “Aunt Flora can be rather chatty, can’t she?”

“Indeed,” Ivy said. “Especially when plied with a fine vintage. Do you have any more questions?” she said to me.

“What can you tell me about—” I glanced down at the other name on the list. “Ellen Asturias?”

“Ellen was Mary’s… supervisor, sort of. She handles diplomatic envoys between myself and other signatories of the Unseelie Accords. I can give you the address of her office. It’s only a few blocks away. I’ll give her a call so she can expect you.”

I pulled out a notepad and jotted down the address that Ivy recited, and as we left, I saw the maid reappear, Ivy’s grey kitten in her arms. Ivy’s face split in a wide grin, and I couldn’t help smiling a bit as well.

“She knew my aunt,” Merlin said as we strode through the lobby.

I took a moment to orient myself, and we set off in the direction of Ellen’s office. “I didn’t know you had any family in this Shadow.”

“I don’t, not anymore,” said Merlin, troubled. “At least, I don’t think I do. My father lived here for a long time, but he’s moved on.”

“Where is he now?” I asked.

Merlin furrowed his brow. “No one is quite sure. We’ve tried contacting him, but he won’t pick up, so to speak.”

“Can you still contact him? Even if he’s in another Shadow?”

“Yes,” said Merlin. “Well, usually. I think we’re at the office.”

The office building was typical for Chicago: tall, concrete and stone, hints of Art Deco in the facade. We rode the elevator up to the fifth floor. The door that Ivy had specified read only “Ellen Asturias: Diplomatic Supervisor.” Merlin pushed the door open.

A receptionist greeted us from behind a standing desk. “Hello, how can I help you today?” he said, a pleasant smile on his face.

“I’m Harry Dresden,” I said. “The Archive sent me to speak with Ms. Asturias. She said she’d be expecting me.”

“Of course,” the receptionist said. “Her office is just to the back.”

I followed the direction of the receptionist’s gesture and found myself in a room that looked more like a steampunk artist’s workshop than an office. Meticulously organized gears and cogs hung on hooks from the walls next to screwdrivers, hammers, and pliers. One shelf on the far side of the room held half-completed projects. A tall, dark-skinned woman sat behind a cluttered desk, peering through a large swivel magnifying glass.

I knocked lightly on the open door, and the woman looked up. “I’m Harry Dresden,” I said. “And this is my associate, Merlin. Are you Ellen Asturias?”

The woman nodded and waved us in. “Please take a seat. I hope you don’t mind if I continue working. This mechanism is somewhat time-sensitive.”

“Not at all.” The only other seat in the room was a spindly bench across the desk from Ellen. I eased onto it gingerly, not fully trusting it with my weight.

“When we asked the Archive who knew when and where Mary’s diplomatic mission took place, the list only had two names: Jared Kincaid’s and yours,” I said.

“Good, good,” said Ellen absently.

“Maybe not,” I said. “The Archive has absolute confidence that Kincaid didn’t leak the information. She can’t say the same about you.”

That made Ellen look up from her work. “No, don’t be ridiculous. Of course the Archive trusts me as much as she trusts Kincaid.”

“She sent us here to question you about Mary’s death,” I said as gently as I could. No one wanted to hear that they weren’t trusted.

“There’s two people that the Archive left off her list.” Ellen focused on her project again. A tiny golden dove lay on the table in front of her, and she stretched out one wing with a pair of tweezers and removed a minuscule screw from the joint. “Herself and Mary, of course.”

“Why would the Archive send us to talk to you, then?” Merlin asked.

“Because she can tell us something that the Archive can’t tell us herself,” I said before Ellen could reply.

Ellen smiled without looking up. “Yes.”

“What is it?” asked Merlin.

“Haven’t the foggiest,” Ellen said. “What could I possibly tell you that the person who knows pretty much everything can’t say? Ironically, the Archive herself is probably the only person who could answer that question.”

“Why can’t she tell us herself?” Merlin asked.

“With great power comes great responsibility,” I intoned. Merlin elbowed me. “No, really. Ivy’s power comes with certain… restrictions. Kind of like how Faeries can’t lie.”

“Ivy?” said Ellen. “I like that.”

I stood up and began pacing. “If Ivy can’t tell us, then she quite literally can’t say it. Which means it might be related to—” _Nemesis,_ I finished silently. Ellen didn’t seem to notice the broken sentence.

“Can you think of anyone who might have a motive to kill Mary?” Merlin asked.

Ellen thought for a moment before shaking her head. “Mary is—was—kind and thoughtful. She was a practitioner, you know. Very sensitive to mental and emotional energy. It’s part of what made her such a good diplomat. Actually, you know, there is something, but… Oh, I don’t want to speak ill of Mary. And really, it’s none of my business.”

“Whatever it is, it could be important,” I said.

Ellen considered for a moment. “Mary was having a sort of… emotional affair with someone. One of the Sidhe in the Winter Court. I don’t think it ever got serious.”

“Do you have any reason to believe that this Sidhe might have hurt her?” I asked.

“You know how the Winter Fae are,” Ellen half-whispered. “They’re like vicious beasts. You should know that better than anyone, sir Knight. And don’t get me wrong, I’m not insulting them. It’s just their nature. Maybe Mary’s Sidhe got jealous that he would never have her for himself, and that jealousy turned to anger and violence.” She glanced up at me briefly. “I have heard the Winter Mantle induces similar feelings in its bearer.”

I bit back an angry retort, if only to deny Ellen the satisfaction of knowing she was right.

“We’ll look into this Sidhe,” Merlin promised. “Did Mary ever mention a name?”

Ellen shook her head. “She said that he was a guard, but that’s all I know.”

“Are you a practitioner yourself?” asked Merlin.

“No,” said Ellen, a bit regretfully I thought. “My mother was, so I always kind of hoped… but I tried all kinds of spells, and nothing.”

“Thank you, Ms. Asturias,” I said. “You’ve been extremely helpful. We’ll be in touch.”

Ellen blinked several times, and I realized she was holding back tears. “I’m sorry,” she said, adjusting her glasses on her beak-like nose.

“I realize this is difficult,” I said. “But I promise, we _will_ bring Mary’s killer to justice.”

Ellen nodded. “Thank you. Mary deserves no less. Please let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you.”

\---

“Well, that wasn’t especially productive,” Merlin said as we strolled along a block of restaurants. “We know Andras isn’t the murderer, which leaves us with a puzzle. Who has both the motive and the ability to kill Mary?”

“We might be dealing with more than one person here,” I pointed out.

“Let’s start with motive, then. Boyfriend?”

“He’s got the motive, if he found out about Mary and Andras,” I said. “But Ivy and the CPD already checked his alibi.”

“Sister?”

“No motive that we know of. Parents are already dead. And her alibi is legitimate as well.”

“Ellen?”

I had to think about it for a moment. “I’m not sure. Ellen seemed to like Mary well enough, and not just professionally. I got the sense they were friends.”

“She seemed eager to pin the murder on Andras.”

“We’ll need to be careful. If we can’t find Mary’s killer then it won’t really matter if Mab is innocent or not. If enough people believe that Mab is at fault for Mary’s death, then Ivy’s hand will be forced. She’ll have to attack in order to save face.”

“Could it have been a frame job?” Merlin asked.

“Almost certainly,” I said. “I can’t think of any way Mab benefits from this situation. Someone, or possibly a group, is trying to make Mab look like she neglected to uphold the Unseelie Accords. For what purpose, I have no idea.” I stopped in front of a hole-in-the-wall pizza joint. “Here?”

“Here,” Merlin agreed.

The pizzas we received were drenched in artery-clogging grease and had way too much meat. Perfect. “If only my stepbrother could see me now,” said Merlin, scooping up a bit of melted cheese from his plate. “He fancies himself a master chef, and he’s probably right about it. He has very particular ideas about proper fine dining.”

I leaned back in my seat after polishing off my last slice. “He’s obviously never had pizza.”

Merlin tilted his head to one side, considering, then let out a short guffaw. “You know, it’s very possible that he never _has_ had pizza. Food in Chaos is different, and he doesn’t leave the Courts often.”

“He doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

“Next time I see him, I’ll convince him to try it.”

“It’s my life’s goal to spread the love of pizza to as many supernatural entities as possible,” I said. “I’ve already led some of the Fae down the path to junk food-based enlightenment.”

Merlin laughed and opened his mouth as if to say something, then took a huge bite of pizza to cover the motion.

“What?” I asked. Merlin just shook his head and chewed pointedly. “Come on. What were you going to say?”

Merlin swallowed his mouthful with some difficulty. “Nothing important.”

“Tell me anyway,” I said.

“I was just wondering… why did you become the Winter Knight?” Merlin fidgeted with a napkin. “I met Lloyd Slate. He was a bastard, but he was good at his job. He was… frightening, but Winter needs someone like him, doesn’t it?”

“He hated being the Knight,” I said quietly. “So much that he conspired to kill Maeve.”

“Oh. I didn’t know about that.”

“Mmm.”

“I guess I was just wondering…”

“Why me, when I’m so different from Slate?”

Merlin nodded.

I heaved a sigh. “The Mantle… changes its bearer. Slate wasn’t like that in the beginning. But you’re right. The Mantle makes the Knight into the kind of person that Winter needs.”

“Is it…?”

“I’m fighting it, but yeah. It’s changing me.”

“So why did you take the Mantle?” Merlin asked.

I almost brushed him off, but he had been more honest with me than he had needed to be. “I broke my spine,” I said. “Someone I love was in danger, and my back would have taken decades to heal fully, if it ever did. I needed a quick fix, and Mab offered it. For a price.”

“There’s always a price,” Merlin muttered, and I nodded in agreement. I could tell that he wasn’t just talking about Mab, but I didn’t press the issue.

“I don’t like this case,” I said a few moments later. “It’s too messy. We still have no idea _why_ Mary was murdered. Who gains from it?”

“Well, if we’re operating off the assumption that Mab is being framed, which major power or powers benefit from the Archive going to war with the Winter Court?”

“I can think of a few,” I said. “The Denarians—they’re fallen angels possessing humans, though I haven’t smelled any brimstone or seen any evidence of Hellfire. Their magic is distinctive, and besides, I outed their leader as dishonorable and untrustworthy.”

“Isn’t that kind of a given?” asked Merlin. “I mean, they’re fallen angels.”

I blinked a few times. I had forgotten about Merlin’s disconnection from the rules and culture of the supernatural world, despite his own supernatural abilities. “The Denarians are essentially immortal. It’s important for beings like that to maintain a reputation of keeping promises. If they become known as traitorous backstabbers, no one will want to treat or deal with them.”

“Oh hell,” Merlin muttered. “I _know_ everyone in my family is a traitorous backstabber.”

“And are you willing to make alliances with them?”

Merlin considered. “Point. Who else?”

“The Outsiders. The Adversary, in particular. Mab is… instrumental in holding the Outer Gates against Outsiders.”

“And the Outer Gates are…?”

“An entrance to this universe, sort of.”

“Amateurs. I never needed an entrance.”

I ignored him. “The Outer Gates form a boundary between our—my—reality and whatever other universe the Outsiders are from.”

“Why do they want to get in?” asked Merlin. “What’s their end goal?”

“I have no idea. I don’t know if they even _have_ an end goal.” I sighed. “There’s something else as well. A theory I have.” I dropped my voice to a whisper. “Supernatural creatures have been acting… strangely. Against their nature.”

“Yeah, because of the Adversary, right?”

“I think the Adversary is part of it, but there’s something more. I used to call it the Black Council, because I believed it to be made up mostly of wizards, but its influence is greater than I originally thought.”

“What is it, then?” Merlin asked.

“I have no idea, but I’m pretty sure that all or almost all of its members are infected. They create chaos and sow dissent between and within supernatural organizations.”

“That does sound kind of like what we’re dealing with here,” said Merlin.

I nodded. “The problem with working that angle is that it doesn’t actually give me any leads. I don’t know where to look to find a member, and I can’t even begin to guess at motivations.”

The waiter came by with our check.

“Where to next?” Merlin asked.

Before I could answer, time froze. I mean, I’m sure it didn’t actually freeze, but that’s the only way I can describe it. All the normal lunchtime chatter of a busy restaurant stopped. People froze in place, unblinking. Even the air felt dead. Mab appeared before us in a flash of light, fury in her eyes. “ _COME,_ ” she commanded, and she grabbed Merlin’s and my arms. An instant later, we stood in what could only be the throne room of Arctis Tor. Blue and violet light flashed in the icy walls, and a massive throne stood on a dais at the far end of the room, domineering and sinister. Icicles reached down from the ceiling like fingers and connected to the back and arms of the throne, creating a frozen canopy.

Mab released me and Merlin and paced back and forth. “Something has been taken from me,” she said, her voice almost whisper-quiet. “An item of immense power. An item that _your father—”_ she whirled and jabbed her finger at Merlin’s chest “—brought into this world. The Shadow of the Jewel of Judgement.”

Merlin’s eyes went wide. “Oh. Oh, shit.”

“I see you begin to comprehend the gravity of the situation.”

“Uh, no, not really,” I said.

“You will explain,” Mab ordered Merlin. She resumed pacing.

“The Jewel of Judgement is a pendant that belongs to the king of Amber. It can be used to control weather, among other things, and it contains a sort of… three-dimensional Pattern.”

“And it’s _here_?” I asked.

“No, just a Shadow of it, I guess,” said Merlin. He looked to Mab for confirmation, and she nodded once.

“It is known as the Ruby,” she said. The capital R was audible.

“Where was it?” I asked.

“It was ensconced within the Outer Gates,” said Mab without pausing in her pacing.

“Why was it there?” said Merlin. “I don’t really know much about the Gates, but that seems like a bad storage place.”

“The Gatekeeper believed that it would be _safe_ there,” Mab said, derision sharpening her voice. “He believed he could channel the Ruby’s power to strengthen the Outer Gates.”

“Did it work?” I asked.

“It matters not. You will bring the Ruby to me.” Mab stopped pacing and whirled to face us. “You will not rest until you _personally_ place it in my hand.”

“Um, sure, yeah,” I said. “Minor problem. I can’t get to the Outer Gates on my own, and Merlin’s never been there.”

Mab reached into a fold of her dress and withdrew a painting the size of a playing card. “Your late uncle Brand, Prince of Amber, gave me a gift long ago,” she said to Merlin. “I loan it now to you, for the purposes of completing this mission, and trust that you will consider my debt to him repaid.”

“Well, it’s not like you can repay him directly, I suppose.” mumbled Merlin. “This is a Greater Trump, isn’t it?”

I squinted at the card in Merlin’s hands. Rendered on what looked like a thin slab of ivory was a painting of the Outer Gates, done in exquisite detail. “What’s a Greater Trump?” I asked.

“It will take us to the Outer Gates,” said Merlin. “I assume this is the Outer Gates, right?”

“Yeah,” I said. “How does it work?”

“Show him,” Mab commanded. She strode to the dais and settled upon her throne.

Merlin held the card aloft before him. “Focus on the image,” he said. “Let it grow before you. Let it become real to you, more real than your surroundings.” He gripped my forearm, and the painting seemed to grow before me, so large it took up my entire field of vision. In the corner of my eye, Merlin’s outline ran with flashes of rainbow light. “And then… we step through.” I took a step forward, and my foot landed on stone instead of ice.

\---

We stood on a battlefield at the edge of reality. A massive icy wall stretched out to infinity, separating this universe from whatever was Outside, and Merlin stared in awe and no small amount of fear. Smart man. “Those are the Outer Gates?” Merlin asked, pointing to the structure between the two humongous, looming towers twenty yards away. I nodded, and Merlin whistled. He looked around, taking in the shale and bones and scrubby plants, the eerily-lit Outside beneath its black sky, and, of more immediate concern, the ring of Sidhe soldiers that had gathered around us with spears leveled at our chests.

I pulled Merlin close and shook free my copper bracelet. “Lower your weapons,” I commanded. “I am the Winter Knight, here at the word of Queen Mab.”

A few of the soldiers glanced toward a Sidhe in silver-trimmed armor much like Captain Magali’s, but none of them lowered their spears. “ _Infriga,_ ” I whispered, and ice spread from the ground at my feet. “Lower your weapons,” I said again. “I won’t say it a third time.”

The Sidhe leader gave a nod this time, and as one, the soldiers dropped into parade rest, though they still eyed me and Merlin warily. “Forgive us, sir Knight,” said the leader. “As you must know, an item was recently stolen from here. We must be suspicious of any unexpected visitors.”

“I commend you for your diligence,” I said, and the captain acknowledged the compliment with a slight nod of his head. “I am here to investigate the theft, in fact.”

“You may wish to consult with the Gatekeeper,” said the captain.

“Where is he?” I asked.

“Right here,” came a familiar voice from behind me. “Hello, Harry.”

I turned to see Rashid, dressed in his customary dark purple robe. His crystal eye glimmered in the strange light that fell over the battlefield.

“I was wondering when you would show up. You must be here to investigate the disappearance of the Ruby,” Rashid continued. “I know that you will ignore my advice, but I am compelled to give it anyway. Harry, should you find what you seek, do not bring it to Queen Mab.”

“Why?” asked Merlin. “Also, who are you?”

“I am Gatekeeper Rashid,” said Gatekeeper Rashid.

“He defends the Gates, along with Winter’s army,” I explained to Merlin. “He helps keep Outsiders from getting in.”

Merlin looked down at himself then up at Rashid. “You’re doing great.”

Rashid laughed, and the joyous sound echoed off the icy crystal of the wall. It sounded strange in such a bleak place.

“Why does Mab want the Ruby?” I asked once Rashid’s laughter subsided.

“Only the Winter Queen herself knows that for sure,” he said. “However, if I were to guess, and I believe my guesses to be good ones… I would say that she wants to turn its power against the Outsiders. I would say that she believes she could use it to win this war. Permanently.”

I gazed across the war-torn landscape, let myself hear the moans of pain and smell the stench of blood. Would ending the war be worth all the death, the suffering that had already happened? And what about Winter’s forces? Without the war against Outsiders, Winter and Summer would become unbalanced. I couldn’t even begin to guess at the long-term consequences. “Why don’t you want me to give it to her, then?” I asked. “Do you not want to end the war?”

“The Ruby is a formidable tool, one that can be overwhelming if its wielder doesn’t have the strength of will to use it.”

“Mab, weak-willed?” I chuckled, but quickly grew quiet as I saw the grim look on Rashid’s face. “Oh. I see. Wow, that’s—that’s powerful.”

“Queen Mab’s desire for the Ruby is borne of a desperate, but not unfounded, hope. Harry, I will not stand in the way of you finding the Ruby or bringing it to your Queen. But it is a dangerous and powerful item, and the Gates have grown accustomed to its presence.”

“You talk about those Gates as though they’re sentient,” Merlin said.

Rashid smiled. “I do, don’t I?” The crystal in his eye socket seemed to twinkle a bit brighter. “Reconsider, Harry. You always have a choice. No one—not I, nor even the Winter Queen herself, can strip you of that freedom.”

I nodded. “I know. But for now, I think I need to focus on finding the damned thing. Can you tell me anything about the theft?”

“It occurred recently, sometime in the previous ten hours. We are working on narrowing down the time frame.” Rashid strode toward the Gates as he spoke. “Any witnesses to the theft had their memories removed, very skillfully, I must add. Lady Molly is around here somewhere, examining potential witnesses. You may wish to consult with her.”

“Who first noticed it was missing?” Merlin asked.

“I did,” said Rashid. He stopped directly in front of the Gates and pointed to a spot in the center of the overhead structure that connected the towers on either side of the Gates. The enchantments there had been disturbed; I could see as much, even without the Sight. I stood as close as I dared to the edge of my universe and squinted upward. “Whoever took it was familiar with the enchantments,” Rashid continued. “The Gates have not been weakened beyond the loss of the Ruby.”

“So whoever took it didn’t want to bring down the Gates,” said Merlin.

“Well, at least not yet,” I amended. “We can’t rule out the possibility entirely.”

A hunting horn sounded from the distance, and the milling Sidhe leaped into formations.

“What’s happening?” Merlin asked.

I scanned the horizon beyond the Gates. Sure enough, a line of figures had gathered on a hill.

“Outsider attack,” I said.

“You should go,” said Rashid beside me.

“I want to fight,” I said. I looked to Merlin, and he nodded.

Rashid sighed. “Alright. Just… don’t go in there until the Sidhe’s formations start to break down. Otherwise, you’ll just get in their way. Follow me.” He led us up a nearby stairway to the top of the wall, just by one of the massive towers flanking the Outer Gates. Merlin’s eyes widened when he saw the full scale of the war from our vantage point. His breath started coming faster, and he looked like he was about to panic.

“Relax,” I said, and I laid a hand on his shoulder. I had never been all that great at comfort, but I knew how to treat a startled and possibly dangerous animal. Now wasn’t so different. “This is normal and fine. This is what the Winter Court is for.” I gestured to the battlefield. “This war has been going on since the beginning of time.”

Rashid waited until Merlin had calmed down a bit to speak again. “I have to go warn the captains about you. If I see Lady Molly, I’ll send here here as well, though she may have already left.”

“Molly is the new Winter Lady,” I explained to Merlin. “She was my apprentice, and she’s the daughter of some friends of mine. Maeve, uh. Maeve was shot in the head.”

“Your handiwork, I presume?” said Merlin, amused. He still looked a little hysterical around the eyes and the corners of his mouth, but at least he was able to smile.

“Actually, no,” I said. “But I can see why you’d think that.”

Rashid’s footsteps retreated behind us, and the Outsiders slowly approached. Anticipation rose in me, and I told myself firmly that it was entirely due to the Winter Mantle. I didn’t fully believe it, but it was worth a shot. Merlin tensed beside me as the Sidhe marched to battle, but his eyes were fixated on the Outsiders.

“Horrible, aren’t they?” I asked.

“Not really, now that I’m seeing them up close, ” said Merlin. “They kind of remind me of the creatures of the Void—it’s this region below the Courts of Chaos. It’s almost making me homesick.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“No. Well, maybe a bit. I don’t really get homesick. Not for the Courts, at least.” He studied the Outsiders for a few seconds. “How do we fight these things?”

“With great difficulty,” I said. “They’re not entirely impervious to magic, but pretty close. The Sidhe weapons do alright against them, though.”

“I don’t much like to get up close and personal in battles,” said Merlin. The Sidhe cavalry harried the Outsiders, then fled back through the orderly blocks of infantry. “I’m going to try something.” He pointed at the center of the pack of Outsiders and spoke a few words. I couldn’t understand the language Merlin used, but I swore I could feel the rush of power leaving his body. He sagged slightly, clutching the parapet, and his spell took effect. The ground beneath a swathe of Outsiders rippled, engulfing hundreds of the creatures almost halfway. The affected Outsiders sank partly into the stone, halting their charge and tripping up the ones behind.

“Impressive,” I said.

Merlin stood up straight and beamed. “And now, for my next trick…” He uttered another spell, but I couldn’t see any significant change in the battlefield.

“What did you do?” I asked.

“Wait for it,” said Merlin. “Just a few… more…”

The stone trapping Outsiders began to glow, and the air above it shimmered with heat.

“Holy shit,” I said, as the inhuman screams of the Outsiders reached my ears.

Merlin grinned with pride. “Thanks,” he said.

The field of lava began to spread as the magically-heated stone melted the surrounding land. Sidhe fled the heat in a panic, and several Outsiders managed to claw their way out of the softened rock and attack the retreating Sidhe.“Um, maybe I put a bit too much juice into that one,” said Merlin.

“Maybe,” I agreed. I pointed my staff at the span of lava near the Sidhe formations. “ _Infriga,_ ” I whispered. Ice coalesced against the lava, throwing up a wall of steam with an audible hiss. “ _Ventas servitas!_ ” I cried as the steam billowed upward. A gust of wind rushed across the battlefield, pushing the boiling-hot steam over the host of Outsiders and revealing several of the creatures frozen in ice. Sidhe easily surrounded and slaughtered the trapped Outsiders, their feet sure and stable on the plain of ice I had created, and then the fight began in earnest. The lovely, inhuman beings fought and died, and it took all my willpower not to jump into the fray next to them. I didn’t relish going toe to toe with Outsiders, not without the power of the Wild Hunt at my back, at least, but the all-too-familiar bloodlust still rose in me. I longed to leap into the fight, to test my strength against that of my enemies, to emerge victorious and dripping with blood. I tried to keep Butters’s words in mind, tried to remember that the Winter Mantle likely didn’t actually grant me _more_ power, just removed my inhibitions. It was a close thing. The Outsiders broke before I did. A bone-chilling howl sounded from somewhere in the back of the host of Outsiders, and they began a disorderly retreat. Sidhe harried the flanks but clearly didn’t want to stray too far from the Gates.

“Is it over?” asked Merlin as the last of the Outsiders disappeared over the horizon. His voice sounded distant and shaky.

“Yeah,” I said. “I think so.”

“Good, then you won’t mind if I…” Merlin sagged back against the parapet and slid into a sitting position, his knees hugged to his chest and his head braced against the ice at his back. His face had gone pale with fatigue, and he looked as though he were ready to faint.

“Are you okay?” I asked, alarmed.

“Fine,” whispered Merlin. “That was just… a lot of magic.”

A door opened in the tower next to us, and Rashid emerged, his face a blank mask. “That was… impressive,” he said.

“Thanks,” said Merlin, grinning brightly despite his exhaustion.

“I’m not sure how I’m going to explain this to the Sidhe, though. You frightened them. Profoundly. Such a display of power was unwise.”

Merlin’s smile faded slightly. “I won that battle for them.”

“That was a minor raiding party,” said Rashid. “I doubt it was meant to pose any real threat. Most likely, one of their scouts noticed the broken enchantments in the Gate and wanted to test our defenses.”

“That’s… I see,” said Merlin. “So I…”

“Terrified and threatened the Sidhe, alerted the Outsiders to your presence, and gave them a taste of your strength, which only means that when they attack in earnest, they’ll bring even more firepower? Which you likely won’t be here to help defend against, meaning that more Sidhe will die in the battle. Yes,” Rashid said through clenched teeth. “That is what you did. Are you proud of yourself?”

Merlin stood slowly, making no effort to conceal how much he used the parapet for support, and made his way down the staircase on the wall. He didn’t look at Rashid as he passed.

“Sorry,” I muttered to Rashid, but he just turned away and gazed across the battlefield. Lava still bubbled in a few places, and my ice was beginning to melt. I hurried after Merlin.

“Don’t say anything,” said Merlin as I caught up.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” I said. I matched my pace to Merlin’s hobble. “Where are you going?”

“Arctis Tor, maybe,” said Merlin. “Or. I don’t know. Should we talk to Ivy again?”

I considered for a moment. “Arctis Tor is our best bet, I think,” I said. “We need to talk to Molly. Are you sure you can get us there?”

“Easy,” said Merlin. “We’ll have to take a small detour out into Shadow, since we’re already in the Nevernever. But it won’t be far, and it’s much easier than trying to shift elsewhere in a Shadow when you’re already there.”

“That almost made sense,” I said.

Merlin didn’t reply, but he muttered under his breath as he walked. His stride grew longer and surer as we made our way through a copse of scrawny trees. We passed a large boulder, and Merlin circled around it. “Come on,” he said as I stepped back. “Stay with me.”

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Walking around something tall like this helps to shift Shadow rapidly. It blocks my sight in that direction—” Merlin waved toward the boulder “—and that makes it easier to add and subtract elements from the landscape.”

“How?” I said, but I resumed following Merlin.

“Let me give you an example that’s often taught to people who are just learning how to walk through Shadow,” Merlin said. “Like I said earlier, walking through Shadow involves imposing your will upon your surroundings. You kind of… order the land to shape itself to your desires, and it does. But it’s a lot easier to tell yourself and the land that the environment contains some feature if you’re not actually directly observing the place where that feature is supposed to be. Does that make sense?”

“Kind of,” I said slowly.

“Let’s say I want to go to a Shadow that happens to have a flower over there, by that tree,” said Merlin, pointing. “There’s no flower there right now, as you can see. A sufficiently skilled sorcerer, augmented by certain other abilities, could probably shift themselves instantly to a Shadow that has a flower by the tree. Others of us,” and here Merlin grabbed my elbow and led me around the rock, “need a bit of a trick to do it. We need to give the Shadow a chance to shape itself to our desires. So we look away, we walk a little while, and when we stop walking… the flower is there.” He pointed to a single snowdrop that bloomed at the base of the tree. “It’s possible to shift a lot of Shadow all at once, but it’s harder.”

“How many people can you bring through Shadow with you?” I asked.

“I’m not sure if there’s an upper limit,” said Merlin as we set off again. The trees grew thicker around us, and when I looked back, I could no longer see the stony plain or the Outer Gates. “My father and my uncle once led over a hundred thousand troops through Shadow to assault the city of Amber.”

My mind spun with possibilities. “You could lead troops directly into your enemies’ headquarters,” I said. “You could go into Shadow and raise massive armies of creatures that people don’t know how to fight against.”

Merlin nodded. “It’s not a perfect solution, though. You still need to know where you’re going in order to end up there. You need to get every detail exactly right.”

“It sounds difficult, holding all those details in your mind,” I said, and Merlin nodded in agreement. We walked in silence for a while, and the forest shifted around me. Rashid had been harsh on Merlin, and deservedly so. Merlin’s spells had clearly drained him, but the fact that he even had so much magical energy, so to speak, was terrifying. I liked to think of myself as one of the top thirty or so wizards in the world in terms of sheer firepower, and Merlin blew me out of the water. If I had expended as much energy as quickly as Merlin had, I would be out of commission for days, if the effort didn’t kill me outright. I had never witnessed Arthur Langtry’s full capabilities, but I had no doubt that Merlin could go toe to toe with him and have a decent chance of coming out on top. Heh. Merlin vs. the Merlin. The fight could probably wipe out the entire Chicago metropolitan area.

“You mentioned something about a Greater Trump earlier,” I said, breaking the almost-eerie silence that had descended upon the forest around us. “What exactly is that?”

Merlin pulled a deck of Tarot cards out of his pocket. They were beautifully rendered, clearly hand-painted but almost perfect. He separated a handful of cards from the rest of the deck and gave them to me for inspection. They were cool to the touch, though I wasn’t sure if that was due to the slowly dropping temperature or for some other reason. Each card had a portrait on it, done in such exquisite detail that I wouldn’t have been surprised if they moved and spoke. “Who are these people?” I asked.

“My family. That’s aunt Fiona there,” Merlin said of the brilliantly red-haired woman in a green dress. “And that’s Jurt, my half-brother. Bastard.”

I held up the next card, a portrait of a man wearing black and silver with a silver rose at his collar and a brooding expression. “Who is this?” I asked.

“That’s my father,” said Merlin quietly. “Prince Corwin of Amber.”

“I can see the resemblance,” I said, and Merlin seemed to brighten a bit.

The temperature dropped even further as I examined the cards, and Merlin cast his cocoon of warmth spell. “Trumps can be used to contact the person on the card,” said Merlin when he was finished. “Kind of like before, when we went to the Outer Gates, you just focus on the card. It’s a bit like a spell, but anyone can do it, not just a Logrus or Pattern initiate.”

I flipped through a few more of the cards. “Who painted these?”

“I did,” said Merlin with no small amount of pride. “Suhuy, the keeper of the Logrus—oh, that’s him there—taught me.”

“They’re beautiful,” I said, and Merlin beamed. “I think you should tell me more about the Jewel of Judgement.”

Merlin’s grin faded, and he looked uncomfortable. “Those are state secrets,” he said. “There’s things I don’t necessarily want Mab knowing about.”

“I won’t tell her anything,” I promised. “I just need to know more about the Ruby, and the best way for me to do that right now is to learn about the original.”

“You won’t tell her even if she commands you?” Merlin asked. He narrowed his eyes, calculating. “Even if she tortures you? Even if she tortures someone you love, like Molly?” I couldn’t answer, and Merlin sighed. “I can tell you a few things,” he continued. “I said earlier that it contained a three-dimensional version of the Pattern. A person can sort of… attune themselves to the Jewel by projecting themselves into it. They walk, or, more accurately, fall through the Pattern. Afterward, they can harness more of the Jewel’s powers. They can use it to create a new Pattern, if they wanted.”

I took a moment to absorb the implications of that. “So how does the person project themselves into the Jewel in the first place?” I asked.

“After walking the Pattern or the Logrus, one is able to transport oneself instantly anywhere in Shadow, once per walk. So if you wanted to project yourself into the Jewel, you’d need to take the Jewel with you as you walked the Pattern or the Logrus. Then, while standing at the center, you’d need to transport yourself into the Jewel.”

“So the Jewel contains a Shadow?” I asked.

“I’m not entirely sure,” said Merlin. “But it contains… something. Something that can be traversed.”

“What if the Ruby contained part of the Nevernever?” I asked. “As a sort of analogy to wherever you go when you project yourself into the Jewel.”

“It’s possible,” said Merlin. “Maybe even likely. But we’re just speculating, at this point. We can’t know for sure without having the Ruby in our hands.”

The forest gave way to a mountainous landscape, and Arctis Tor glimmered no more than a hundred yards away. We passed near where Mary had been murdered, and I felt guilty that Merlin and I had been almost entirely ignoring our investigation into her death. I caught Merlin glancing toward the boulder near the grove of trees as well. As we approached the gate of Arctis Tor, a tall woman with blue streaks in her long blond hair stepped outside. She wore a gown so white that it made the surrounding snow look dull, which, bizarrely, reminded me of Mab’s usual style. The woman waved excitedly when she saw me.

“Hi, Harry,” said Molly with a bright grin. “How’ve you been?”

“Not too bad, all things considering,” I said. “Merlin, this is Molly, the Winter Lady, previously my apprentice. Molly, this is Merlin. He’s, uh…”

“I know who he is and what he’s doing here,” said Molly. “Mab filled me in. I would have said hello earlier at the Outer Gates, but that kind of battle is still… difficult for me to endure.” She grimaced. “I had to step away before it began.”

“I understand,” I said. “Rashid told us you were examining the minds of the Sidhe to see if any had witnessed the theft of the Ruby. Did you find anything?”

“No,” said Molly. “I don’t want to talk about this out here. Let’s go to my wing.”

“Your… wing?” I said.

“Of the castle,” said Molly as if stating the obvious.

“You have a whole _wing_? I only have the one room,” I grumbled.

Molly rolled her eyes and beckoned for me and Merlin to follow. She led us through the twisting corridors of Arctis Tor, and I swore I could tell when we arrived in Molly’s wing. The air didn’t grow warmer, exactly, but the cold was less oppressive. Molly paused in front of an arch covered by a curtain of tiny beads of purple and blue ice. “It’s a bit… excessive,” she said, embarrassed, but she pulled the curtain aside and stepped through.

_Excessive_ was definitely an appropriate adjective. I found myself in a sitting room that walked a fine line between tasteful opulence and ostentation. Comfortable-looking armchairs in pale shades of beige and cream were grouped in twos and threes around low tables. The shimmering lights in the walls of Arctis Tor played over the pale fabrics, creating an almost eerie glow. Several plants, blossoms overflowing from their pots, decorated the tables and the corners of the room. I had no idea how Molly kept them alive in the freezing temperatures. I noticed that the nearby wall was strangely textured. As I stepped closer, I realized that the wall was covered in trailing vines and flowers that seemed to sprout from the ice itself. Bars of violet ice framed the vines, creating the effect of a large, rough tapestry.

“Do you like it?” Molly asked when she noticed my interest in the flowers and vines. “I made that myself.”

“It’s beautiful,” I said. I watched the twinkling light through the crystal-clear glass for a few more seconds before turning back to Molly. “So, what did you find?”

“Straight to business, then?” said Molly with a smirk.

“A woman is dead,” I said. “And I can’t continue my investigation into her murder until I find this Ruby. So, yes, straight to business, I think.”

Molly looked down at her shoes. “You’re right,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry. It’s the Sidhe—you know how they are, and they want me to be like that too, and sometimes it’s hard to remember that I don’t have to be like them.”

“I know,” I said, and boy did I know. Merlin nodded fervently beside me, and I wondered.

“I didn’t get much from the Sidhe at the Outer Gates,” said Molly. “All I know is that someone very skilled with mental magic removed any trace of the crime from their minds. Don’t give me that look, Harry, they all gave me permission to look into their memories.”

“Did they have a choice?” I muttered, and Molly glared at me.

“The only clue I could find that something was wrong was that the scene was almost too perfect. It was like they all saw the same five seconds of action, just from slightly different angles.”

“What do you mean?” asked Merlin.

“It was like every Sidhe stopped wherever they were standing and stared at the Ruby for five seconds,” said Molly. “No matter if they were doing something more important, no matter where they were. They all just… watched the Gates, and nothing happened. And then they went back to whatever they were doing, and none of them were fully aware of what they were doing or thought that it was out of the ordinary.”

“Very strange,” I said.

“It’s elegant and clumsy at the same time,” said Molly. “It’s like they all saw the same thing, which is to say, they saw nothing. So, obviously, if someone like you comes to investigate, they all can say that they saw nothing without lying. The alibi relies on the Sidhe being, well… Sidhe.”

“I suppose it’s a good thing we have someone who’s not Sidhe on the inside of the investigation, then,” I said, and Molly gave an uncomfortable chuckle.

“Right,” she said. “But I did find something that you might actually be able to use. I met with Andras, and he gave me permission to view his memories of finding Mary’s body.” Molly winced in sympathy, then whispered a spell. “This is the murderer.” She held her hand flat before her, and whispered a spell. A tiny figure, no more than six inches tall, sprang up from the palm of her hand. A dark hood concealed the figure’s face.

“Can you…. I don’t know, zoom in?” asked Merlin, and Molly complied.

“Holy shit,” I said.

“Do you know her?” asked Molly.

“Yeah,” said Merlin. “That’s Ellen Asturias.”

\---

“I need to get a message to Ivy,” I said, fumbling in the pockets of my duster for my notebook and a pen. “She might be in danger.”

_Ivy,_ I wrote.

_Ellen Asturias killed Mary using a spell._ _I have proof. Andras allowed Molly to view his memory,_ _and I recognized Ellen as the murderer._

_Stay safe._

_-Harry_

“Who is Ellen Asturias?” Molly asked as I scribbled.

“She’s Ivy’s diplomatic supervisor,” said Merlin. “I guess she was Mary’s boss. She kind of… organized diplomatic missions between Ivy and other signatories of the Unseelie Accords. Mary, obviously, was one of those diplomats.”

“Why would she kill her own employee?” Molly said.

“We think Mab might have been framed,” I said as I pocketed my notebook and pen. “We think someone is trying to start a war between the Archive and the Winter Court.”

“A war? Why… Oh.” Molly covered her mouth with her hand, aghast. “The Outsiders are trying to draw Mab’s forces away from the Outer Gates, aren’t they? They’re trying to weaken our defenses.”

That specific angle hadn’t occurred to me, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. “Probably,” I said.

“Mab needs to know about this,” Molly said.

“You haven’t shown her Andras’s memory?” I asked. “She probably would have recognized Ellen herself.”

“No,” said Molly, furrowing her brow. “I was busy, I think. Or… something.”

“Right,” I said slowly. “So do we think Ellen is infected?”

“Probably.” Merlin said. “But that raises another question. It seems to me like controlling the Archive would be pretty good, strategically speaking, for the Adversary. It can be spread from person to person, right? Why not try to infect Ivy?”

“Maybe it’s tried and failed,” I said.

“Maybe it’s tried and succeeded,” whispered Molly.

I shook my head. “I don’t think so. Ivy gave us the information that put us here in the first place.”

“So why would Ellen show her hand now?” Merlin asked.

“Maybe she’s not actually infected?” suggested Molly. “Maybe it’s not the Adversary at all.”

“I don’t know who else it could be,” I said. “I doubt it’s the Denarians—no Hellfire. Maybe Ellen was under the control of a White Court vampire?”

“Do you have any contacts in the White Court?” said Merlin.

I nodded. “I know a guy.”

“Let’s talk to him, then,” Merlin said.

“Good idea,” I said. “Molly, Ivy will probably get in contact with you to verify Andras’s memories. Would you be willing to let her into your head?”

Molly looked nervous, for which I didn’t blame her, but she nodded.

“Great. Merlin and I will go talk to Thomas, and Molly, you should tell Mab about Ellen.”

Merlin and Molly nodded, and Molly led us back to the courtyard of Arctis Tor. “Be safe, Harry,” she said, hugging me.

“You too, grasshopper,” I said, and I followed Merlin into Shadow.

\---

“You know, I’m getting kind of tired of pulling money to me,” said Merlin as we neared Chicago. A few minutes later, we came upon a sleek black car idling by the side of the gravel road. “I’m driving,” he said as we approached the car. He took a few turns, his face a mask of deep concentration, and suddenly we were driving through the outskirts of Chicago. It was evening already, and the air still held the chill of winter. “Do you think Mary’s murder and the theft of the Ruby are connected?” Merlin asked a few minutes later.

“I’m not sure,” I said. “It’s possible. That wouldn’t fit with the frame job theory, though. It wouldn’t make sense for Mab to steal something that’s already in her territory.”

“Unless whoever Ellen was working for wanted Mab to look vulnerable,” Merlin pointed out. “If Ivy thinks that Mab is already weakened, she’d be more likely to attack.”

“We don’t have any hard evidence to connect the cases,” I said. “But it’s definitely something to keep in mind.” I spotted a pay phone to the side of the road. “Here, pull over. I want to call Thomas before we just show up at his place.”

Merlin obeyed, and I dialed Thomas’s number. No one picked up; Thomas and Justine must be out. “Thomas,” I said after the answering machine beeped. “It’s me. I have a few questions about a case I’m working on. I’d like to talk to you as soon as possible. Can you call my office—oh. Uh. I’ll call you again later tonight, I guess.” I hung up and trudged back to the car. “No answer,” I said in reply to Merlin’s questioning look. “I’ll call him again later. Let’s go back to Ellen’s office. We might find something there that points to why she killed Mary.”

“Sure,” said Merlin. “I remember where it is.”

The city block containing Ellen’s office building was surrounded by yellow police tape. Merlin parked nearby, but as we approached the tape, a man dressed in an expensive tailored suit stopped us.

“Sorry, gentlemen, I can’t let you walk here. There’s been a gas leak.”

I squinted at him. “I recognize you,” I said. “From the lobby of that hotel. You work for the Archive.”

The man nodded almost imperceptibly, but he didn’t step aside.

“I’m Dresden, the Winter Knight,” I said. “This is my associate. We were the ones who warned the Archive about this… gas leak.”

“I see,” said the man. “I’m afraid I still can’t let you through. This is a delicate operation.”

“We could help,” Merlin said.

The man shook his head. “I don’t think so. The people in there—they’re all highly trained to deal with this sort of situation. I am afraid to say that you would only get in their way.”

A car pulled up to the curb nearby, and Ivy stepped out, followed closely by Kincaid. As she came closer, I could see that her eyes were red and her cheeks still held a few traces of tears, though she held her head high. “It’s alright, James,” she said to the man in the suit. “I’ll escort them in myself.”

James looked uncertain. “Are you sure that’s wise?” he asked.

Ivy nodded firmly. “Mr. Kincaid will be with us. Besides, I need to talk to Ms. Asturias myself.”

“Of course,” said James. He patted Ivy gently on the shoulder as she passed, and she gave him a little smile.

“I’m sorry, Ivy,” I said as we climbed the stairs to the building.

“I’ll want to see this proof for myself as soon as possible,” said Ivy.

“Of course,” I said. “I told Molly to expect your call. She agreed to let you examine her thoughts to retrieve Andras’s memory.” We crossed the lobby of the building, Ivy nodding to the guards as they waved her through.

“The first team will have evacuated this floor already,” Kincaid said. “They’re probably almost at the top by now. The second team is doing a more thorough sweep.” He checked his watch. “They’re probably on the second or third floor. We should wait until they give the all-clear.”

“No,” said Ivy. “That just gives Ellen more time to escape.”

“The building is warded,” Kincaid pointed out. “She can’t open a rift to the Nevernever. There’s guards by every exit.”

“She’s at the top floor,” Ivy argued. “And she’s smart. I never knew she was a practitioner. We can’t guess at the extent of her abilities, which means we need to apprehend her as quickly as possible.”

Kincaid sighed. “There’s no convincing you, is there?” he said.

“I don’t pay you to convince me,” said Ivy with a tremulous smile. She pressed the button for the fifth floor, and the elevator began to ascend.

Merlin, Kincaid, and I arranged ourselves around Ivy. “Make sure I have a clear shot,” said Kincaid, drawing an impressively heavy-looking pistol. The elevator dinged, and the doors opened onto the fifth floor.

We were greeted by the business ends of about a dozen pistols pointed directly in our faces. Kincaid shoved Ivy behind him, putting his own body between her and the guns, but she stepped around him, her hands raised.

“Stand down,” she said. “It’s me.”

“Archive,” said one of the soldiers with a silver star emblazoned on her dark-blue helmet. “It’s not safe for you here. The second team hasn’t cleared this floor yet.”

“Do you have her?” Ivy asked, and the woman nodded.

“She’s under guard in her office.”

“I want to see her,” said Ivy, and she pushed through the group of soldiers without waiting for an answer. The starred soldier, who must be some kind of captain, looked to Kincaid, who shrugged. If Ivy wanted to confront Ellen face to face, there wasn’t much that the soldiers could do. Ivy made her way down the hallway to Ellen’s office, and the rest of us followed in her wake.

The door to Ellen’s office was hanging off its hinges, and Ellen’s various gears, tools, and gadgets were strewn across the room. I saw the tiny dove that she had been working on lying on the floor, its body crushed and its wings broken beyond repair. As we entered, one of Ivy’s agents picked a small, silvery piece of jewelry out of the wreckage, and I recognized it as the twin to the Summer Court token that Ivy had shown us earlier. If we needed any more proof, this was it.

Ellen sat at her desk, her hands bound in thorn manacles and her glasses askew. Her face was covered in tears and running makeup, and I could see droplets of blood where the manacles pierced her skin. She looked to Ivy desperately. “Oh thank God,” she gasped. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Why?” asked Ivy, her face blank. “Why did you kill Mary?”

“I—I didn’t,” said Ellen. “You can’t believe that. I didn’t kill her. I could never! She was my friend! How c-could you believe, even for a second, that I’d k-kill her?” Her breath hitched, and a fresh wave of tears streamed down her face.

“I have proof,” said Ivy. “A witness saw you kill her. Harry identified you from the testimony.”

Ellen looked desperately to me and then back to Ivy. “It’s not true. The witness was lying. Or—or Harry was mistaken. I swear!”

“Will you swear upon your magic?” Ivy asked.

“I don’t have any magic!” Ellen insisted. “You know I’m not a practitioner.”

“Those manacles say otherwise,” said Ivy. She leaned over the desk and drew her finger along Ellen’s wrist. Her finger came away red with blood. “They wouldn’t affect you this much if you weren’t a witch.”

“I… I…” Ellen gasped for words. She bowed her head and seemed to struggle with herself for a moment. Her hands twitched, and the thorns dug deeper into her skin, but she didn’t cry out. When she lifted her head again, her face was different. She wore a determined expression, and a new fire burned in her eyes.

“I don’t have much time,” she said, her voice lower than before, harsh and rushed. “It’s trying to take control of me again. I can feel it. It knows me, but I know it too. It wants the Ruby because they can use it to come in. They’re trying to come in—” Her voice abruptly cut off, and her face changed, froze into a statue of Ellen. The face looking back at me was no longer Ellen’s. It had all the same features, but something, some spark of humanity, was gone. I knew what that meant. I had seen the same thing happen to Cat Sith not so long ago.

Nemesis laughed with Ellen’s mouth.

“Ellen…” whispered Ivy.

“No,” said Nemesis. “Not anymore.” It laughed again, and the building shook around us. Kincaid pulled Ivy out of the room as the ceiling cracked. She struggled, and Kincaid had to lift her off her feet. The soldiers surrounded Ivy and Kincaid and ushered them toward the staircase, leaving only a few guards with their guns trained on Ellen. A low, angry hum emanated from the air around us, and Merlin collapsed to his knees. “I know you, Son of Chaos,” Nemesis said, focusing Ellen’s gaze on Merlin. “Why do you oppose us? You must know by now that we are reflections of you and your kin. We are almost family, you and I. I am more your brother than the man who stands beside you, no matter what form you wear.”

Merlin looked to me then down at his own hands. His fingers had elongated and grown talons, and I recognized the hands of his demon form.

“Retreat!” shouted a voice that I recognized as Kincaid’s. “Leave her. Get yourselves out safely!” The few remaining guards backed out of the room.

“Come on,” one of them said, tugging on my arm, but I pushed him off.

“Go,” I said. “We’ll try to subdue her. You’re in over your head. You need to get out now.”

The soldier wavered but eventually followed his fellows down the hallway, hopefully to safety.

“This world lies between Order and Chaos,” Nemesis continued. “Our conflict is inevitable. It will repeat unto infinity, all down the line. At the end of time, some worlds will be claimed for Order, some for Chaos. I think all of us here know which side will win the war here in the end.”

Merlin groaned as the hum grew into a dull roar that rattled my teeth in my skull. The skin around his temples rippled and split, and horns began to grow from his torn flesh. Blood ran down his face. I had never seen Merlin truly shift into his demon form, but I had the feeling it wasn’t supposed to look like this. Another tremor knocked me off my feet, and I landed heavily. I couldn’t focus enough to cast a spell. Something about the awful hum got in my mind and drove out all other thoughts. I put a hand to my ear, and my fingers came away bloody. Just when I thought the building would shake itself apart, everything went still.

Nemesis threw back Ellen’s head and laughed, open-mouthed and wild-eyed. A glowing rift opened behind her, and a wizened hand reached out and grabbed her by the throat. The hand dragged Ellen’s body, still laughing, through the rift and was gone. The rift closed before I could rise from the floor.

“Damn,” said Merlin. Blood trickled from his mouth and temples, but his horns had begun to recede, and his hands were back to human. “That hurt.”

“You’re telling me,” I said. I heaved myself up off the floor with a groan then offered a hand to Merlin.

“Who nabbed her?” Merlin asked as he pulled himself up.

“No idea,” I said. “But give me a moment. I’ll check with the Sight.”

Merlin nodded and stumbled to lean against the cracked door frame. I focused and opened the Sight, scanning the room for any traces of magic. The room was cluttered with it. Black sluggish power, glimmering with blue and violet light, hung in curtains from the shelves and the ceiling. It looked like the magic at the murder scene and around Mary’s heart. If we needed any more confirmation that Ellen murdered Mary, this was it. A glowing blue arch, invisible to the unSeeing eye, marked where Nemesis had disappeared.

“Whatever opened that rift was powerful,” I said. “I think Nemesis gave Ellen access to magic, but the rift looks different. It’s… kind of beautiful.”

Merlin moved to stand beside me, holding the wall for support. I carefully avoided looking at him, but I saw a flash of the twisting Logrus out of the corner of my eye. Merlin left smears of blood on the wall. Tiny flames flickered along the edges of his handprints, and I tried very hard not to think about any possible implications of that.

“I see what you mean,” said Merlin. “Do you think that whoever took Ellen was also possessed by Nemesis?”

“Ellen is dead,” I corrected. “She sacrificed herself to tell us… something. _They’re using it to come in,_ she said. _It_ being the Ruby, obviously.”

“And _they_ are probably Outsiders,” said Merlin.

“The Ruby can be used to cross the Outer Gates,” I said faintly. “If the Outsiders get their hands on it, they can come In.”

“So Mary’s death and the theft of the Ruby are definitely connected,” said Merlin.

“Looks that way,” I said.

“I think I might be able to track Ellen,” Merlin said. “If Ivy can give us some of her things, maybe some clothes or a hairbrush from her home, it won’t be too hard.”

“Unless she’s in the Nevernever,” I said. “It’s still worth a shot, I think. We should both try tracking her, even though Nemesis may have warded Ellen’s body against tracking spells. It said it knew you, too, so it might be savvy to your particular brand of off-world magic. Still, we might be able to get through its defenses, especially if we can get some of Ellen’s personal effects.”

“Best get moving, then” said Merlin. I followed him down the hall to the elevator. The doors were stuck halfway open, and behind them was only an empty shaft descending into blackness.

“Guess we’re taking the stairs,” I sighed. A wave of fatigue hit me as I contemplated descending five flights. I could barely believe that we had first spoken to Ellen less than twelve hours ago.

“I know that Mab said we weren’t to rest until we give her the Ruby,” I said as Merlin and I crossed the disheveled lobby. “But I’m not as young as I was, and I need to recharge my batteries.”

Merlin nodded in agreement. “Back to Demonreach, then?”

“Back to Demonreach.” I wasn’t looking forward to the trip, and I felt a sharp pang of loss for my old apartment. We met Ivy on the steps of the building. She looked shaken, and she had a small cut on her face that Kincaid was dabbing at gently. I wasn’t too tired to chuckle at the giant man hovering like an anxious nursemaid whose charge had skinned her knee.

Ivy rushed to me as I approached and flung her arms around me. “You’re okay,” she said, her voice muffled by my duster.  
“’Course I am,” I said. “I’ve had heavier buildings fall on me.”

“The scary thing is, he’s not even joking,” Kincaid said to Merlin, who managed a weak smile.

“I’m sorry, Ivy,” I said, and Ivy sniffled before releasing me. The mask of the Archive slid back into place, and she stepped away.

“After you left, Ellen’s body was pulled through a rift into the Nevernever,” I said. “I examined the room using the Sight. We think that Ellen’s magic was a gift from the Adversary. We Saw the same kind of magic around her office as the stuff that was on Mary when we examined her. I don’t think Ellen opened the rift herself, but I’m not sure who did.”

“I don’t think there’s much more I can do tonight,” Ivy said. “I’ll have the wards rebuilt, and I’ll keep the building under guard, but I don’t have a team prepared to open a rift and track Ellen through the Nevernever. I don’t even know where the rift would lead to.”

“I think we all need some rest after that,” I said, and Ivy nodded in agreement.

“Thank you, Harry,” she said. “This wasn’t how I was hoping your investigation would go, but at least now I know. I’ll start Mary’s funeral preparations tomorrow.”

“You don’t have to do that,” I said. “You can wait a few days, or I’m sure someone else would be happy to help you. Oh, well, not _happy_ exactly, but… Ahem.” It seemed wisest to just stop talking.

Ivy smiled sadly. “I want to do it myself, and I want to do it soon. It’s what Mary deserves.”

I gave Ivy one last hug and nodded my goodbye to Kincaid. I wanted to talk with Ivy a bit more, but Merlin looked nearly dead on his feet, so I hustled him toward the car.

“Maybe you should drive,” said Merlin. “I don’t know the way back to the harbor, and I’m…” He flexed his fingers. “I was hoping I could take a bit of a nap while you drive.”

“Sure,” I said, and I slid into the driver’s seat. I didn’t recognize the model, but the wheel felt good in my hands, and the seat molded itself comfortably to my back. The transmission was manual, too. I approved. Merlin angled the passenger seat nearly flat and stretched out, and I took us as smoothly as I could through the dark streets of Chicago.

“I can’t sleep,” said Merlin halfway through the drive. He sat up and fixed the back of his seat. “I can’t stop thinking about Ellen. And… that was the Adversary, right? The thing that spoke to me in the end. That wasn’t Ellen.”

“Right,” I said. “What happened back there, anyway? Was it forcing you to shapeshift?”

Merlin was silent for a moment. “Yeah,” he said eventually. “I didn’t know that was possible. It was like I had no control over my body, but I didn’t feel like I was possessed. I was fighting it as hard as I could, but I just. I don’t know. It was like I was a puppet.”

“Ellen was strong, to be able to throw off its control for as long as she did,” I said. “Her information changes everything. Outsiders aren’t supposed to be able to come in through the Gates, not unless a mortal lets them inside. That’s a basic universal truth.”

“Why can’t Faeries open it?” Merlin asked. “Or demons, or angels, or any other non-mortal creature?”

“I’m not sure,” I said. “It probably has something to do with free will. The world doesn’t _belong_ to mortals, exactly, but it’s our perceptions and beliefs, built up over hundreds of generations, that shape a lot of aspects of how magic works.” Merlin didn’t reply, and I glanced at him. I could practically see the gears turning in his head.

“Would an infected Sidhe, for example, be able to open the Outer Gates?” Merlin asked a minute later. “Because they’d be able to act against their nature.”

“I really don’t know,” I said. “Mortal magic and Sidhe magic are different. I can’t go near a computer without shorting it out within a minute or so, but Mab, for example, would have no such issues.”

“Ellen sacrificed herself at the end, didn’t she?” said Merlin.

I blinked at the abrupt subject change. “Yeah. She fought off the Adversary’s control for a few seconds, but it took all of her strength, and it destroyed her.”

Merlin shook his head. “Why didn’t she just… wait? You said that Mab had cured one of the infected Sidhe. We could have cured Ellen, too.”

“It might have been too late by then,” I said. “Now we know what the Ruby can do, and we know why the Outsiders want it.”

“It doesn’t get us any closer to figuring out who stole the Ruby, though.”

“No, but we do know that the Outsiders probably don’t have it yet.” I made a show of peering through the window at the night sky. “No cataclysm. No apocalypse. Whoever took it is probably either keeping it safe from the Outsiders, or they intend to use it as a bargaining chip.”

“Any ideas who?” Merlin asked.

I saw Merlin’s rope bracelet pulse violently out of the corner of my eye.

“Frakir, what—” said Merlin, but he didn’t have the chance to finish his question. Just ahead, a massive truck swerved out of the oncoming traffic. I had barely enough time to pull Merlin close and raise a shield before it crashed into us.

\---

I wasn’t sure how much time passed before I woke up. I hurt too much to try to move. The room was dark, so I reached out with my senses and Listened. Ragged but steady breath sounded from nearby. “Merlin?” I whispered. No answer came from the darkness. “Merlin, is that you? Come on. You need to wake up.”

“Fuck off,” Merlin groaned.

“Are you okay?”

“I had only just recovered from the last time I nearly got run over by a truck, and then this happens,” said Merlin. “Just typical. Any idea where we are?”

“Nope,” I answered. “Can you see anything with Logrus vision? I don’t want to use the Sight.”

Merlin was silent for a few moments. “Couldn’t make much sense of anything, but we’re definitely in the Nevernever. There’s spells on the walls, but they’re dormant, and we’re not bound magically. I’m pretty sure we could escape easily enough.”

“We need to move quickly,” I said. “Can you get out of those handcuffs yourself?”

Something metallic clanked against stone and slid for a moment before coming to rest against my knee. I winced as I bent double and grabbed the handcuffs Merlin had thrown to me.

“Honestly,” said Merlin, and I could tell he was smiling despite the dark. “It’s like you have no faith in me.”

I focused my mind on my own handcuffs. “ _Infriga,_ ” I whispered, then “ _forzare._ ” A knife of force cleaved through the cold-brittle metal, and the handcuffs shattered.

“I’m going to make a light,” said Merlin. He whispered something, and a soft glow came from the direction of his voice. He lifted his hand, and the golden ball of light drifted up to the ceiling. We had been imprisoned in what appeared to be a disused warehouse. I checked myself over quickly. I had lost my staff in the crash, but I still had my copper bracelet, and my revolver was in the pocket of my duster.

“Why are we alive?” Merlin asked. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“I have no idea, but I intend to get out of here as soon as possible.” I hauled myself to my feet, ignoring the many scrapes and bruises I had collected in the crash, and made for the door. Before I had taken more than a few steps, however, a glimmering archway appeared in front of me. I recognized it as a gateway to the Nevernever, and I drew my gun.

Ellen Asturias stepped through the portal, gripping a slender wand tipped with a blue crystal. She raked her eyes over me and Merlin and clucked her tongue. “Really, Harry, is that any way to greet a lady?”

“If the lady is a murderer who also just ran me over with a truck, yes,” I said. “I’d say it’s a pretty damn good way to greet said lady.”

“I didn’t expect those to hold you for long,” said Ellen, gesturing with her wand at the two pairs of discarded handcuffs. “They didn’t really need to, though, did they?” Something metallic flashed between her fingers, and she flicked her wrist as though throwing a playing card. A triangular piece of metal sliced into me and stuck, jagged barbs tearing at my flesh, and the power of the Mantle fled. I collapsed as I lost sensation in my legs, and I nearly blacked out as the pain of all the injuries I had collected in the car crash hit me at the same time. Ellen waved her hand almost lazily, and runes set into the walls flared to life and bathed the room in an eerie greenish glow.

“Harry?” Merlin said, terrified. “I can’t move.” I forced my eyes open to see a shimmering blue gateway materialize, the same that had taken Ellen from her office. A hunched figure, clad in a robe that looked like it was made of thousands of cobwebs layered on top of each other, stepped through. The figure leaned upon a gnarled staff, decorated with shards of obsidian set into its knots.

“Mother Winter,” I said through clenched teeth.

Mother Winter didn’t spare me a glance as she moved to stand in front of Merlin. She broke a piece of obsidian from her staff and held it up. It floated before her, flowing almost like a liquid.

“It’s mordite, Merlin!” I said. “Don’t touch it.”

The mordite lengthened into a long rope and circled around Merlin, forming a ring. Merlin was paralyzed, and I heard Ellen chanting something under her breath. As I watched, helpless, the mordite stretched and surrounded Merlin in a giant bubble. The bubble shrank, and I could only imagine Merlin’s terror as the deadly walls of his cage constricted around him. I thought I saw a flash of light, all the colors of the rainbow and then some besides, before the mordite bubble abruptly shrank down to its original size, and Merlin was gone. His golden light faded out.

“No!” I yelled raggedly. I dragged myself across the floor toward Mother Winter, but she immobilized me with a flick of her wrist. I was forced down by an invisible plane of pure will, and I didn’t have the strength to fight. “Why her?” I forced out through my bruised throat. “Why Mary?”

“Poor wizard,” Ellen said to Mother Winter without a trace of pity in her voice. “He still doesn’t understand.” Mother Winter didn’t answer, and Ellen turned back to me. “ _Why Mary,_ you ask? Well, I say, why not Mary? Why not that guard or the Winter Lady? Why not dear little _Ivy_? They are all the same, in the end. One is much like the other for our purposes.”

So it hadn’t been about Mary, after all. “She was, what, a distraction?” I croaked. It was growing increasingly harder to breathe, but I wanted to keep Ellen talking as long as I could. I shoved the surprising amount of pain I felt at Merlin’s death to the back of my mind. No time to think about that now. I had to get out of here.

“I suppose you could say so,” said Ellen. “Do hush, now.”

And that was what a mortal life was worth. No more than a momentary distraction. Just something to keep me and Merlin occupied while the Ruby was stolen. Mary wasn’t killed out of anger or jealousy. She wasn’t killed in a freak accident, just because she happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. She wasn’t killed for any stupid mortal reason. She had, unbeknownst to her, been a pawn in a game that she had no concept of, a game that was far beyond her comprehension. My eyes stung with the unfairness of it all.

And Merlin, poor Merlin, never to return to his outlandish home. It wasn’t right that he had died here. Surely a prince of Amber and Chaos deserved a death that wasn’t so… so common, so human. I wouldn’t even be able to contact his family to tell them what had happened. Would they mourn him? From what he had told me, I wasn’t sure.

Mother Winter hobbled to me and tapped my thigh with her staff. I flinched, but my legs were numb due to my broken spine. “It’s yet not your time to die, Knight,” she said. “Do not despair.”

“Oh, that’s very comforting,” I muttered. Then, louder, “how long have you been infected?”

Mother Winter stared at me. “I’ve lost track,” she said, just when I thought she wouldn’t answer. “I didn’t think that was possible. I don’t remember a time when I wasn’t… _infected_ , as you say. I am the way I have always been.”

“This doesn’t make any _sense,_ ” I said.

“I know, little Knight,” said Mother Winter, sounding almost pitying. “It is not your lot to understand. I know how painful that can be.” Her tone shifted. “You must be wondering why I don’t simply kill you.”

I nodded with difficulty. Up until now, I had always known Nemesis to either kill or infect anyone who learned about it. Was that why Mother Winter hadn’t killed me yet? Was she planning on infecting me? I didn’t feel up to speaking just then, but I wanted to keep Mother Winter talking as I slowly inched my hand toward the iron barb in my side.

“You have a greater role to play in this than you know, my Knight,” said Mother Winter.

“I’m not your Knight,” I hissed.

Mother Winter smiled without warmth. “Are you not? I am the greatest of the Faerie Queens. My Mantle gives me a measure of power over the members of my court.” She tilted her head to the side as though listening for a distant sound. “As you will soon see for yourself.”

A shimmering rift appeared in the air near Ellen, and Molly stepped through, resplendent in her white gown. “You summoned me?” she asked, curtsying to Mother Winter. She didn’t seem to notice me, and something constricted around my throat as I tried to call out to her.

“I did, child. Give me the Ruby,” said Mother Winter.

“Um, I don’t have the Ruby,” said Molly. “It was stolen from the Outer Gates. I never had the Ruby.” She fumbled in the folds of her dress, reaching into pockets so cleverly hidden as to be nearly invisible.

Mother Winter held out her withered hand. “ _Now,_ girl. I must have the Ruby.”

“Why do you think I have the Ruby?” Molly snapped. She immediately bowed her head in deference, even as she searched her pockets. “Um. My Queen. What I mean to say is, I don’t have the Ruby. Knight Dresden is looking for it right now, though. I’m sure he’ll find it soon.”

Mother Winter simply waited, her hand outstretched. I struggled mutely against my bonds.

“What are you wait—oh my God,” said Molly as she withdrew a red gemstone from her pocket. The Ruby glowed in her hand, no bigger than a peach pit. “What…?”

“Give it to me. _Now,_ ” commanded Mother Winter.

Molly stepped toward Mother Winter as though in a trance, her eyes fixed on the Ruby. At the last second, just before she dropped the bright gemstone into the crone’s claw-like hand, she hesitated.

“Why do you want it?” she asked.

“Never mind that, child, just give it to me!” Mother Winter’s last few words devolved into a shriek.

“No, I…” Molly shook her head as though trying to clear water from her ears. She looked slightly dazed. “I need to talk to Queen Mab about this.”

“Foolish child,” spat Mother Winter. “You _must_ give me the Ruby.”

“No, I don’t think so,” Molly said. She put the Ruby back in her pocket, and Mother Winter gave a howl of rage and raised her staff.

I closed my eyes and focused, blocking out the pain and terror and urgency. I pictured the spells that bound me as tangible objects, as physical manifestations of will. My will against Mother Winter’s. I had beaten her once. I could do it again. I didn’t need to throw her off entirely, just give myself enough leverage to slip out. I strained, pushing with all of my might, and I felt the spells weaken just a tiny bit. It was enough, and I ripped the iron barb out of my side. The pain from the crash disappeared immediately as the power of the Winter Mantle returned to me.

Molly raised her arms defensively in front of her. I dived toward her, knocking her off her feet, and raised a shield. “Harry?” said Molly as we hit the ground.

“Yep,” I grunted. “Talk later.” Mother Winter’s spell, whatever it was, glanced off my shield, abruptly draining my energy. Ellen screamed a spell from somewhere behind me, but my shield held. Molly cast a quick spell, and the room was suddenly filled with a dense fog.

Mother Winter laughed, the sound biting and cruel. “Your illusions might be enough to fool the lesser Sidhe, but not me,” she said.

“Good thing it’s not an illusion,” said Molly, but her voice came from the other side of the room. Smart girl.

Mother Winter hissed, and a brisk wind swirled through the room, pushing the fog out through minuscule gaps in the windows and door.

“ _Fuego_!” I cried, and fire jetted from my hand at Ellen. She dodged, but not in time to prevent the hem of her shirt from catching fire. She was distracted for a moment, and I caught a glimpse of Molly slowly encasing Mother Winter in ice before I had to dive for the floor to dodge a bolt of energy that Ellen flung at me. I rolled toward her and knocked her off her feet. I spotted a handful of wands tucked into her belt, so I grabbed them and smashed them against the floor. They splintered, and I could feel their magic dissipate. Ellen shrieked in anger and punched me squarely in the jaw hard enough to knock me backwards. Fine. I didn’t want to be too near her anyways. I summoned the tiny sun that I had used to terrify Molly so long ago. Now, though, it appeared directly in the center of Ellen’s chest. Ellen twitched once, twice, then went limp, and the smell of roasted flesh filled the room.

Mother Winter gave a haunting wail and ripped a chunk of mordite off her staff. She flung it at Molly, who managed to deflect it, but the mordite rippled and spread. Its inky tentacles reached blindly, seeking Molly. It almost brushed against her wrist, but she dodged just in time.

Mother Winter stretched out a hand, and the mordite froze in place. “I will tell you one more, _Lady_ Molly,” she wheezed. “Give. Me. The Ruby.”

Molly’s hand twitched toward her pocket involuntarily. “No,” she said, but her voice wavered. I grabbed her arm, but Mother Winter gestured, and I was flung off my feet and into the wall behind me. Vines reached out as though the stone had come to life, grasping at my arms and legs. I shattered them with tiny blasts of force, but by the time I cut myself free, more had entangled me.

Molly and Mother Winter were locked in a battle of will. Mother Winter stood imposing, furious, and entirely inhuman above Molly, who had fallen to her knees, her beautiful white dress in a puddle around her. Molly’s hand moved slowly but inexorably toward her pocket, where I could see the faintest flash of light from the Ruby. “Molly, no!” I called. A vine curled around my throat and pulled tight, but I snapped it off. “You don’t have to listen to her.” Mother Winter laughed, but shouted over her. “It doesn’t matter how much power she has over the Mantle. You are more than the Mantle. You’re human, Molly, and you can decide your own fate. You can _choose,_ do you understand?”

Molly’s hands scrunched into her dress. “I’m trying, Harry,” she gasped. “Keep talking.”

“You don’t have to be like them,” I said, crushing two more vines into dust. “You’re strong enough to resist, I know you are. You’re not Sidhe, no matter what the Mantle is telling you right now. You can choose your own destiny. You will always have your free will.”

Molly’s hands relaxed and she stood. Tears streamed down her face, but she smiled. “I’ve made my choice,” she said, but before she could go on, the door to the warehouse flew open with a resounding _BOOM_. Merlin stood in the doorway, breathing hard. Behind him swirled a sky of purple clouds, and the grey-green land rolled below like an ocean, even though it felt stable beneath my feet. I finally shattered the last of the vines holding me in place, and I rushed to Molly’s side. I noticed then with no small amount of alarm that the sky and the earth seemed to be crumbling away behind Merlin, swept up in winds that were tinged with red and grey.

Mother Winter must have noticed the same, for she stood transfixed, staring out of the open doorway. “What have you done, you idiot boy?” she demanded of Merlin. “Do you have any idea where we are?”

“Somewhere nearer to Chaos than the rest of this Shadow, I’m guessing, judging by the speed of the decomposition,” said Merlin. I thought I could hear voices in the winds, whispering words I couldn’t understand, and Molly shrank against me. Merlin hadn’t shifted into his demon form at all, but as I watched him there framed by the strange sky, he seemed to be the least human creature in the room. “Harry,” he said, “it’s time to go.”

I only hesitated for a moment before taking Merlin’s outstretched hand, but it was enough. Mother Winter raised a barrier between me and Molly, and she was knocked away from me. The world spun around me, the voices in the wind growing louder and angrier, and I was deposited in the throne room of Arctis Tor, Mab herself looming angrily above me and Merlin flat on his back at my side.

“Get up, Knight,” Mab said.

I stood immediately, almost before I consciously processed the command.

“Do you have the Ruby?” asked Mab.

“No,” I said. “Molly still has it. She’s the one who—”

“Yes, I know,” Mab cut me off. “Merlin told me what happened. He told me about Mother—” She swallowed hard and strode away, ostensibly to sit upon her throne, but I could see that her eyes had gone misty.

Merlin groaned and sat up. “Molly! Is she…?”

“She’s not here,” I said. “Mother Winter separated us. How did you get us here, anyway?”

Merlin flashed his teeth in an approximation of a smile. “Well, you remember how I said that a talented sorcerer, augmented by certain abilities, could shift a lot of Shadow at once? Queen Mab was kind enough to… augment me.” Mab inclined her head at the compliment, her eyes averted.

“You must go after the Ruby,” Mab said. “It cannot be allowed to fall into the hands of… of the Outsiders.”

“We’ll need to track down Molly, then,” I said. “I can take some things from her rooms here.”

Mab nodded. “Go,” she said, her voice razor-sharp, and Merlin and I hurried out the door.

“What was that spell, back there?” I asked as Merlin followed me through the maze of hallways to Molly’s wing of the castle. I could hardly bear to even think about it, but Merlin seemed to know what I meant.

“I… um. It’s hard to describe,” Merlin said. “It’s a major summoning that swallows up the Shadow and envelops it in Chaos.”

I had to take a moment to process that. “You mean that part of the Shadow is destroyed?” I asked.

“Basically,” said Merlin.

“God damn it,” I said. I punched the nearest wall. “God _damn_ it! Molly was there! What if Mother Winter forced her to give up the Ruby? What if Molly is dead now, or swallowed by Chaos, or whatever, because of what you did?”

“Molly chose not to give up the Ruby,” said Merlin defensively. “And I think Mother Winter—is that her name? Who is she, anyways? She couldn’t have just taken it for herself. She seemed to need Molly to give it to her. Which means that she probably still doesn’t have it, if Molly still hasn’t chosen to hand it over.”

I groaned. “She’s the oldest and wisest of the triple Queens of Winter. She’s the crone, she’s the aspect of Fate who cuts the threads of life, and you left Molly with her! She’s probably torturing Molly right now.” I sped up, almost sprinting through the icy halls. I almost took a wrong turn a few times in my haste, but I finally got to Molly’s chambers. Merlin found her hairbrush after a few seconds of frantic searching, and we each took a clump of Molly’s hair and cast a tracking spell. Luckily, they both worked, and they both pointed in the same direction. Molly was alive, somewhere in the Nevernever, near enough that the tracking spells functioned quickly and strongly. Mother Winter hadn’t taken any measures to block our tracking spells. I pointed this out to Merlin, and he frowned.

“It might be a trap,” he said. “Mother Winter must know that we’d go after Molly. Maybe she’s just trying to lure us onto her own territory.”

“I know,” I said. “But we don’t have much time to do anything about it. We need to get to Molly as soon as possible.”

“I believe I may be able to help with that,” said Mab from behind me. I started; I hadn’t heard her approach. “The stable contains several sleighs that you, as the Winter Knight, may make use of.”

“Where are the stables?” I asked.

“I remember where they are,” said Merlin, and Mab nodded once.

“I’m afraid that that is the only aid I can give you,” Mab said. “Any magicks, any Sidhe warriors, any other tools I send with you may be subverted by—” She clamped her lips shut and looked away. “The Mantle of the Queen Who Was confers Intellectus limited, fortunately, to aspects of its Court. I cannot equip you with anything more than knowledge.”

“I see,” I said. “And do you have any knowledge to equip us with?”

Mab’s catlike eyes focused Merlin, and she tilted her head. “I believe I do,” she said slowly. She laid a finger on the center of Merlin’s forehead, and his eyes widened. “It’s a—a map,” he said. “Of the Nevernever. You’re showing us how to get to Molly.”

“In a way,” Mab said. “I can’t know for sure where they are precisely, but this is… _her_ favored territory. I recommend you take a detour through Shadow, because she has a measure of control over the formation of the land in this region. She may have placed obstacles in your path, or she may have looped the land back over itself, much like a Möbius strip, so you could travel forever but not appear to make any progress.”

Merlin nodded as if that made sense. “Do you have any advice on how to beat her?” he asked.

Mab stared at him for a moment, and he shifted uncomfortably under her piercing gaze. “I suggest you don’t try,” she said finally. “You have no idea of the power she wields, the knowledge she has. A direct confrontation would be unwise. Remember, she has perfect knowledge of every aspect of the Winter Court.” Mab gave me a significant glance, and I nodded thoughtfully.

“Up for a hellride?” Merlin asked me, a little too eagerly, I thought.

“I suppose I can sleep in the sleigh,” I said.

“I wish you luck,” said Mab, and I snorted. Merlin and I were going to be facing down one of the most powerful Fae in her own territory. We were going to need a lot more than _luck_. Judging by the look on his face, Merlin seemed to agree with me, but he bowed to Mab all the same and led me to a door in the back of the castle. It opened up into a small yard, swept clean of snow, with stables on one side. I saw the gleam of several sleighs in a shed attached to the stables, and I hailed a passing Sidhe groom.

“Do you have need of a sleigh, sir Knight?” he asked without even looking at Merlin.

“Yes, please,” I said. “Something light and fast, with enough room for three people.”

The groom nodded and instructed us to wait. Moments later, a pair of reindeer trotted out, hitched to a small, dark wooden sleigh trimmed with silver. The sleigh seemed to have no problem sliding over the stone and dirt of the yard. “Do you require a driver?” the groom asked.

“No,” I said after a quick consultation with Merlin. The groom handed me the reins and signaled for the gate at the far end of the yard to be opened. Merlin and I clambered into the sleigh. Up close, the reindeer looked a bit odd. Their dense brown fur seemed to have patterns like the grain of wood, and their antlers and hooves looked almost like stone. One reindeer turned and blinked at me, and I could see an intelligence beyond that of a simple beast in its placid gaze.

“You may direct them with the reins or with vocal commands,” the groom said.

“Go,” I said tentatively, but the reindeer just huffed and stomped their feet.

The groom sighed, sounding almost like a reindeer himself. “You can command them to walk, trot, canter, gallop, turn left or right, speed up, slow down, jump, and move quietly,” he said.

“Oh, right then, thanks,” I said. “Um. Walk.”

The reindeer began to walk, and I gently steered them toward the gate. We passed through, and the gate clanged shut behind us. Snow lay thick on the ground beyond the small yard, and I was worried the reindeer would tire themselves out by forcing a path. To my surprise, their hooves didn’t break through the top layer of snow. Instead, the reindeer and the sleigh left tracks only about half an inch deep. Merlin muttered to himself in a language I couldn’t understand, and the landscape changed almost frighteningly quickly. The sky went from steely, overcast grey to brilliant blue to tangerine in a matter of seconds, and instead of snow, we glided over a beach with sparkling pink sand. The sun was an oblong, shattered mass that hung near the horizon. A heartbeat later, and we were in the middle of a frozen ocean, and stars whirled overhead in the black sky. I watched them, and they seemed to bear down on me as though aware of my regard.

“What’s happening?” I asked. My voice sounded small and fragile.

“I’m trying to brute-force my way to Mother Winter’s territory,” Merlin said. “Basically, I’m focusing on an aspect of the place Mab showed me and demanding that that aspect stays in the landscape. I do that over and over, as quickly as I can. A hellride is almost like putting together pieces of a puzzle, instead of adding and subtracting elements from the environment during a slower ride through Shadow. Something’s blocking me, though. It feels like I’m being corralled or herded to take a certain route.”

“Probably Mother Winter’s obstacles,” I said. “Can you find a way around?”

Merlin nodded, his posture tense. “I think so. I need to concentrate, though.”

I took the hint and subsided into silence. The reindeer didn’t seem to be too fazed by the rapidly shifting environment, though they occasionally chuffed at particularly shocking transitions. One environment blurred much into the next as we raced through. I saw a forest of crystal trees, glitteringly sharp…

…a roaring fire in the center of a circle of standing stones…

…a lonely flag waving in a field of wildflowers…

…an ocean around me and an ocean above me, and the silvery underbellies of fish…

…a narrow ridge along the side of a mountain, the smell of ozone heavy in the air…

…and finally, finally, a misty glade dotted with gnarled trees that I recognized as the area surrounding the cottage that the two eldest Faerie Queens shared. The cottage itself was nowhere in sight, for which I was grateful. I didn’t want Mother Winter to be able to blackmail me with the plagues and diseases contained in the little clay pots.

“We’re here,” said Merlin a moment later, and I pulled the reindeer to a halt. “At least, we’re in the right general area. Do you still have some of Molly’s hair?”

I nodded and pulled a few strands out of a pocket in my duster. I cast the tracking spell again, but strangely, it felt weaker here than it did in Arctis Tor. Judging by the frown on Merlin’s face, he faced a similar issue. I wasn’t sure what it meant. Either Mother Winter was attempting to block Molly from being tracked or, and I could hardly bear to think of it, Molly’s hold on life had grown more tenuous. “Let’s go,” I said. The tracking spell cast a warm dot on my forehead, and I swiveled my head until the dot rested in the center. “Turn left,” I commanded the reindeer, and I tugged on the reins to orient them in the right direction. They trotted forward, and the mist swirled around their knees.

“We should be careful here,” Merlin warned. “Mother Winter probably set up traps.” Even as he spoke, a rumble sounded nearby, and part of the grassy knoll caved inward. Only a neat little jump from the reindeer saved us from tumbling down with it. Seconds later, a burning rune appeared in midair, accompanied by a shrill whistling sound. I pulled Merlin to the side and out of the sleigh just in time. A fireball dropped out of the sky and pulverized the sleigh, startling the reindeer. Wood chips flew everywhere, and I raised my shield just in time to avoid the worst of them. The reindeer appeared mostly unharmed, if a bit singed. They galloped away from the wreckage but didn’t bolt.

Merlin sighed, watching a few flames flicker out beneath the mist. “Well, fuck.”

“Traps indeed,” I said. I pulled Merlin to his feet. “You can get us out of here without the sleigh, right?”

“Yeah,” said Merlin. “If nothing else, I still have the Trump for the Outer Gates.”

“Maybe we should send them back,” I said, nodding to the reindeer. They didn’t seem too keen about the low-lying fog, and I didn’t want to put them in any more danger.

Merlin tilted his head, considering. “That’s probably a good idea,” he agreed.

I approached the reindeer. “Can you find your way home?” I asked. “Um, can you even understand me?” The nearest reindeer rolled its eyes at me, and the other huffed out a breath that sounded suspiciously like laughter. “Right then,” I said. “Here, if you could take a message—” I pulled a pen and my slightly-crumpled notebook out of my duster.

_We’re fine,_ I wrote. _Sleigh_ _was destroyed_ _. Be back soon. —Dresden_

I made another copy of the note and tucked one into a small pouch on each of the reindeer’s harnesses. Hopefully a groom would see them. “Get home safe,” I said, and the reindeer nickered at me and trotted away. I quickly lost sight of them in the mist. “Nothing for it but to walk,” I said to Merlin. I reoriented myself so that the tiny spot of warmth that pointed to Molly sat between my eyebrows.

“Frakir says something’s coming ahead,” Merlin said a few minutes later. “A lot of somethings.” I readied my copper bracelet and wished for my staff. I didn’t know if it had survived the car crash, and even if it had, Mother Winter had probably taken it for herself or destroyed it.

The squad of Sidhe warriors moved so silently that I couldn’t hear the clink of their armor until they had ambushed us. _Did it count as an ambush if all they_ _had to do was walk up to us?_ I thought as I dove out of the way of several razor-sharp weighted nets. Merlin did something to the mist, which solidified and slipped inside the Sidhe’s armor. A series of dull cracks sounded, swallowed by the grassy knolls. Half the Sidhe dropped without making a sound. A few groaned and twitched quite a bit before expiring, and one managed to raise a hunting horn to her lips and sound a call with her dying breath.

“Who was she signaling?” Merlin asked, his brow furrowed with concern.

A loud crash, accompanied by the creak of trees, sounded nearby. “I think we’re going to find out soon,” I said. Seconds later, an ogre covered in shaggy white fur lumbered over the top of a nearby hill. It wore armor etched with runes and arcane symbols, likely protections against magic. Merlin flung a spell at it, but as I expected, the jet of black flame simply slid off the silvery breastplate. The ogre grinned, baring its ugly yellow fangs. “Its armor is enchanted,” I said to Merlin. “I think I can disable the wards if I can get close enough.”

“You want to get close to that thing?” Merlin asked in disbelief.

“Well, if you’d rather do it yourself, be my guest,” I said, and Merlin shook his head. “Can you paralyze it?”

“I can try the thing with the mist again,” said Merlin. “If it’s protected against magic, then I don’t think I can directly affect it. Maybe if I just thicken the air around it… give me a moment.” Merlin muttered under his breath, and the beast drew nearer.

“I don’t think we have a moment,” I said. It swung at me, and I dodged just in time.

Merlin backed up. “Distract it. I only need a few more seconds.”

The ogre must have understood Merlin, because it rounded on him and advanced. “ _Ventas cyclis,”_ I chanted, and a small cyclone picked up chunks of dirt and sticks from the ground and flung them at the ogre. The beast wasn’t hurt, but it didn’t need to to be. It turned back to me and snarled, swinging twice. I dove backwards off my feet, hoping for a soft landing. My hope was in vain, and I smacked my head solidly against a boulder obscured by the fog. I sat up, my ears ringing, just as the ogre lunged for me. Its jaws were a hairsbreadth away from my neck when it froze in place, its eyes rolling in their sockets.

“Got it,” said Merlin from behind the ogre.

“Took you long enough,” I said, and I took Merlin’s proffered hand and stood. “It’s gonna take me some time to disable these wards. How long will your spell hold?”

“You’ve got about three minutes, I’d say,” said Merlin. “This mist is… difficult. It’s like it has a mind of its own.”

“It very well might,” I said as I examined the runes on the ogre’s armor. They were complex, though not as intricate as the wards on Demonreach or the Outer Gates. It took me two minutes to locate a rune I recognized. It didn’t help, though. The rune would incinerate anyone who tried to disable any of the other runes it was linked to, and it repeated dozens of times over on the armor. I couldn’t see any safe place to start dismantling the warding. “Okay, new approach,” I said. “I need you pull some iron filings through Shadow.”

“Why… oh, I see,” said Merlin. “We don’t have much time, though.” He wiggled his arms, his face a mask of concentration, and fifteen seconds later, a vial of iron shavings appeared in his hand. “That was difficult,” he said, panting. “We’re far away from any source of iron.”

“That makes sense,” I said. “Let’s back up. This won’t be pretty.” I pulled my gloves on and unstoppered the vial, careful not to let any touch my skin. I poured about a third of the vial into my palm. “ _Ventas servitas!_ ” I cried, holding my hand aloft, and the wind caught up the iron filings and blasted them against the ogre. It roared in pain, still paralyzed, and the Faerie-made plate began to fall apart. The runes were destroyed in tiny, bright explosions, and the parts of the ogre that weren’t covered in fur sprouted angry welts. Merlin’s next spell of vicious black fire hit it squarely in the chest just as it regained movement, and it keeled over, seemingly unharmed except for a perfectly-round scorch mark just below its collarbone.

“That was close,” said Merlin. We started walking again, and we appeared to be making decent headway. Suspiciously, we encountered no other obstacles. I kept a closer eye on my surroundings.

“I recognize that tree,” I said a few minutes later. “I think. It looks familiar.”

Merlin looked around. “Everything looks the same here,” he said.

I scorched an arrow in the familiar-looking tree, and we kept moving. Ten minutes later, we passed by the same tree. “Damn it,” I groaned. “We’re going in circles somehow.”

“It’s a Möbius strip, like Mab said.” Merlin examined the tree. “No, wait. That’s not the same tree. The tree you marked had a knot just below the arrow. This one doesn’t.”

I looked around. Now that I was paying attention, I saw that each tree had a scorched arrow, all pointing the way we were headed. As I watched, the arrows simultaneously rotated to point in random directions. “She’s toying with us,” I said.

Merlin nodded in agreement. “What do we do?” he asked.

“Can you take us through Shadow again?”

“I suppose so, but I’m not sure how much help it will be. We don’t know exactly where Molly is, so I don’t know where to take us.” Merlin paused. “Well, I do have one idea. I’m not sure how well it will work, because it’s entirely untested and it’s not even fully developed yet, which only makes it more dangerous. Honestly, the only reason I bring it up at all is because I’m all out of other ideas.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

Merlin looked nervous. “Well, um. I told you I’m a computer programmer, right?”

I nodded. “Weird job for a prince, but whatever.”

“Right, well. I built a magic computer.”

I blinked. “That’s not a sentence I ever thought I’d hear anyone say.”

“It indexes Shadows by creating… I don’t know, thousands of Trumps in an instant,” Merlin said. “People, places, anything. It’s called Ghostwheel, and it’s kind of been my pet project for a long time now. Like I said, it’s still in development,” he said in a rush, seeing the look on my face. “I don’t even know if it’s fully operational. It needs to gather a certain amount of data to function, and I’m not sure if it’s done that yet.”

“It’s worth a shot,” I said. “How do you use it? Should I step away?”

“No, that shouldn’t be necessary,” said Merlin. “It’s in a different dimension.”

“A magic computer in a different dimension,” I muttered, mostly to myself. “Just when I thought things couldn’t get weirder.”

Merlin pulled out his deck of cards once more and fanned them out. He selected a card depicting a silver wheel against a dark blue background and focused on it. A quiet crackle like the sound of static electricity sounded through the forest, and I smelled ozone in the air. Moments later, a tiny glowing wheel like the one on the card appeared. “Increase terminal size,” said Merlin, and the wheel expanded to about a foot in diameter. I could see the forest, slightly distorted, through the ring of light.

“Ghostwheel, locate Molly Carpenter, the Winter Lady,” commanded Merlin.

The circle—Ghostwheel—spun and expanded in size. When it was about six feet in diameter, the area within the ring grew opaque. I saw Molly sprinting through a tunnel of ice that collapsed almost as fast as she ran, and the unearthly howling of malks sounded from close behind her. Her dress, hacked short, flapped around her knees, and her feet were bare. “If it’s like a Trump, can it pull her through?” I asked.

Merlin bit his lip. “I wouldn’t risk it,” he said. “I haven’t worked out all the bugs yet. More likely than not, she’ll be electrocuted.”

“Shit,” I said. “Can we talk to her at least?”

“Ghostwheel, initiate two-way communication, but do _not_ allow physical contact,” said Merlin.

“Molly?” I said, and Molly flinched and looked around.

“Harry, what is this?” She reached out a hand.

“No!” Merlin shouted. “Don’t touch it. You’ll probably be electrocuted.”

“Where are you?” I asked.

Molly kept running, and Ghostwheel drifted along beside her. “Underground,” she said. “Mother Winter tried to pull me through a rift, but I escaped. I still have the Ruby, don’t worry.” She flashed me a small, triumphant smile. “You were right, Harry. I can choose, and she can’t take that away from me. She’s tracking me, though.”

“I can hear,” I said. That gave me an idea. “Merlin, can Ghostwheel intentionally electrocute things?”

“In theory, yes,” Merlin said. “That’s not really what I built it for, though, so I don’t know if it would be enough to take out Sidhe.”

I frowned and thought a bit more. “Can I send spells through this… portal thing?”

Merlin blinked as though the idea had never occurred to him. “I think so. It works like a regular Trump, and you can send spells through those.”

“Alright, Molly, we’re gonna take out the things chasing you.”

“They should already be pretty hurt,” Molly said.

“’Atta girl,” I said. Merlin directed Ghostwheel to focus on the Fae chasing Molly, and seconds later, a terrifying scene met my eyes. Thousands of Winterfae pursued Molly, so many that Ghostwheel had to expand to nearly ten feet in diameter to include them all, and even then, the images were barely the size of my thumbnail.

“Holy shit,” I said.

“What?” came Molly’s frantic voice from inside Ghostwheel.

“Nothing,” I said. “Can you open a gateway out of the Nevernever?”

“They’re tracking me magically,” Molly said. “I don’t know how many are after me, but I know Mother Winter has some serious power. I don’t want to bring that kind of chaos to the mortal world. Can you imagine the kind of destruction a dozen Sidhe warriors and a band of trolls would cause?” I didn’t mention how much the number had multiplied, and Molly continued. “I just need to find some running water, and then I can get to Mab for sanctuary.”

“Why will water help?” asked Merlin.

“Running water grounds out magic,” I said.

“This Shadow is way weirder than I thought,” said Merlin, shaking his head.

“It’ll have to be a lot to ground a Sidhe tracking spell,” I said to Molly.

“I know,” she said. “Not helping.”

“Can Ghostwheel transport water to her?” I asked Merlin.

“I think so,” said Merlin thoughtfully. “It’ll take some doing, though. Would rain work? That might be easier.”

“It would, but it would have to be absolutely torrential,” Molly said through gritted teeth. The malks had gone silent, which I took to be a bad sign. “And even if you disrupt their spells, the Sidhe trackers would still be able to tell if I open a rift to the mortal world. They’d just follow me through.”

“I might have another idea for that,” said Merlin. “I could draw a Trump for you. It’ll take me some time, but it won’t leave a magical signature that the Fae could track.”

“A Trump?” asked Molly. Her breath was starting to come heavily, and her face was flushed with exertion. I didn’t think she could keep up her pace much longer.

“It’s a portrait that we can use to pull you through Shadow,” I explained.

“Will I be electrocuted?”

“No,” Merlin assured her. “Harry, give me your pen and notebook.”

“Are you sure this is going to work?” I said as I handed them over.

“I estimate that you have a nineteen percent chance of succeeding,” came Merlin’s voice from within the ring of light.

“Thanks, Ghost,” said Merlin.

“You’re welcome,” said Ghostwheel without a trace of irony in its voice.

“Ghostwheel, show us Molly again,” said Merlin. Ghostwheel complied, and Merlin set to drawing.

“Alright, Molly, you need to find a large cavern,” I said. “Do you know if those tunnels have one?”

“Tunnels?” Molly said, panting. “There’s no tunnels. I’m carving my way through the ice as I’m running.”

“Wow, okay,” I said. “That makes it easier. Can you carve out a cavern?

“Not a huge one,” said Molly. “I don’t have quite that much power. She stopped, still breathing heavily, and the walls around her began to melt away. The floor melted as well, and Molly was left standing on a spire in a small, spherical cave about twenty feet in diameter.

“We’re ready for the rain now,” I said to Merlin. He paused in his drawing.

“Ghostwheel, search the nearest one hundred Shadows for rainstorms with more than aught-point-four inches of rain per hour and winds of less than ten miles per hour,” Merlin said.

“Three storms located,” said Ghostwheel.

“Show a picture of the storm with heaviest rain.” Ghostwheel complied, and Merlin nodded. “Create a portal—five feet in diameter—between that storm and this Shadow that opens up about five feet above Molly’s head.”

“She’ll get wet,” warned Ghostwheel.

“That’s the idea,” Merlin said.

“Brace yourself, Molly,” I said, but I wasn’t sure if she could hear me. The portal opened, and Molly was drenched. She yelped and fell to her knees, covering her head and neck with her arms. “Molls! Are you okay?” I asked.

“Yeah, I think so,” came Molly’s voice weakly. I could barely hear her through the noise of the downpour. “This _hurts._ ”

“Ghostwheel, maintain the portal, but show us an image of Lady Molly’s pursuers,” said Merlin.

Ghostwheel did so. The image it showed us was somewhat comforting. The Sidhe had stopped their relentless pursuit and were instead milling around a wintery glade with an air of confusion. It appeared that my idea to ground out the tracking spell had worked. Something at the edge of the field of vision caught my eye.

“Ghostwheel,” I said, not even sure if it would obey my commands, “focus in on the Sidhe wearing red robes and carrying a crystal ball.”

To my relief, Ghostwheel zoomed in without a question. I watched as the Sidhe retrieved a tiny vial of blood, one that could contain no more than two or three drops, and poured a single drop of blood onto the crystal ball. The blood clung to the surface of the crystal, glimmering red, and the Sidhe began to chant. I couldn’t hear the words she said, but I had no doubt that it was Molly’s blood there upon the crystal. “Now’s a good a time as any to test if I can cast spells through the wheel,” I said to Merlin. I gathered my energy and wished again for my staff. I would likely only have one shot at this. “ _Flammamurus!”_ I shouted, and the ground beneath the Sidhe seer’s feet erupted. Lava shot ten feet in the air, hitting a band of sylphs and sending them, screeching, to the ground. The lava consumed the crystal ball and the vial of Molly’s blood, which I hoped would prevent the Sidhe from casting another tracking spell on her after we pulled her through the Trump. A crack opened in the ground, and more lava poured forth like a geyser. Sidhe scattered in a panic. I glanced over at Merlin, but disappointingly, he was too absorbed in his drawing that he hadn’t noticed my awesome display of wizardly power. I hurled a few more spells to nip at the heels of the fleeing Fae, just to keep them from regrouping too quickly. Jets of fire rained down upon the field of snow, and the ground cracked wide in several places, separating the host of Sidhe. I froze and shattered a few of the more important-looking Sidhe, just for good measure.

“Ghostwheel,” I said after I had expended enough energy to leave me panting, “show me a picture of Molly. Oh, um, and allow two-way communication. How are you doing, Molls?” I asked as the image of Molly came into view.

“I’m alright,” shouted Molly over the roar of the rain. She was curled up in a tiny ball on her spire of ice, her head and neck protected by her arms. “Probably gonna have some serious bruises after this, though.”

“Hang in there,” I said. “Merlin’s almost done with the drawing.” I glanced over at Merlin. “You are almost done with the drawing, right?”

“Almost,” said Merlin absently. I was impressed at how fast he worked. The drawing was necessarily crude—my ballpoint pen allowed for few subtleties of shading—but the portrait of Molly had come together quickly. Merlin had even managed to capture the sadness that still lingered around Molly’s eyes from the months she had been unfairly burdened with the protection of Chicago.

“Something’s wrong,” Merlin—no, Ghostwheel—said. “A diagnostic test has indicated that my core temperature is reaching dangerous levels. I must shut down temporarily.”

“Molly, we’ll be there for you soon,” I managed to say before Ghostwheel crackled and disappeared. I rounded on Merlin. “What the hell was that?”

“I told you, Ghostwheel isn’t fully operational yet. Frankly, I’m surprised it responded at all.” Merlin added a few details to the portrait. If I turned my head to the side and let my eyes drift out of focus, I could see elements of the Logrus in the lines of Molly’s hair and the folds of her dress. That made sense in a weird place in the back of my mind. “I’m done,” said Merlin, heaving a sigh. He stretched his hand. “Not my best work, and my materials were less than ideal, but it should do the trick.” He held the portrait aloft before him. “Alright, focus on it, just like when we Trumped to the Outer Gates. Imagine you can see her moving, breathing. Imagine she’s about to say something.”

It was easier than I thought it would be. There was something about Merlin’s drawing that seemed strangely lifelike, despite its rushed creation. I imagined I could hear the patter of rain, and then I really _could_ hear it. The portrait changed to depict Molly as I had seen her moments ago, and the background, which Merlin had left largely blank except for a few vague lines to suggest a landscape, resolved into the icy cavern Molly had created.

“Harry? Is that you?” Molly’s voice emanated from the card, and her portrait’s lips moved as she spoke.

“Yeah, it’s me,” I said. “How do I pull her through?” I asked Merlin.

Merlin reached his free hand toward the drawing, and portrait-Molly’s hand reached back, until suddenly it wasn’t just a hand inked on paper. Molly, sopping-wet and shivering, stumbled into existence in a burst of rainbow light.

“Are you okay?” I asked as I hugged her.

“Fine, fine,” said Molly. “Just cold. And sore. _Ow._ Did you really have to dump such heavy rain on me?” She glared at Merlin.

Merlin shrugged unapologetically. “You two were the ones who said you needed a lot of water.”

Molly rolled her eyes and said something in what sounded like broken Japanese. Water shucked off her as though her entire body had been squeegeed all at once, leaving her only slightly damp. “Where are we, anyways?”

“We’re still in Mother Winter’s territory,” Merlin said. “We really should leave, sooner rather than later.”

“Right, then, I can get us back to Arctis Tor,” said Molly, and she waved her hand and whispered a spell. Nothing happened. “ _Rokotsu,_ ” she said again, more firmly this time. Still nothing.

“Mother Winter must have blocked the opening of rifts here,” Molly said.

“As fun as it would be to go on two hellrides in the same day,” said Merlin, “I think I’d rather just go to the Outer Gates first and then take a… rift, is it? A rift back to Arctis Tor.” Molly and I nodded in agreement, and Merlin pulled the tiny landscape of the Outer Gates from his pocket. Molly glanced between me and Merlin as we regarded the card, then focused on it herself. I made sure I had a firm grip on Molly’s arm, just in case. The image drew me in, and I stepped forward.

\---

War tore at the edge of reality. Molly screamed and collapsed, and my hold on her arm was the only thing that prevented her from sprawling onto the stone. I picked her up forcibly—Molly wasn’t a small woman, but the Winter Mantle gave me the strength to throw her over my shoulder in a firefighter’s carry.

“I guess this is the _earnest attack_ the Gatekeeper mentioned,” Merlin said.

“This isn’t just another attack,” I said. “This is Mother Winter trying to take the Gates by force.” Almost the entirety of the land on the other side of the Outer Gates was populated by Outsiders. I couldn’t even make out individuals. It was just a near-solid mass of writhing tentacles, gaping maws, and horrifying screams. Mab’s forces were a small, glimmering line of silver, pressed up against the massive translucent wall with barely any room to maneuver. I looked around wildly, trying to make sense of the battle. A platoon of Sidhe archers moved into position on the wall and loosed arrows, lightning-fast, more or less at will. Sylphs buzzed overhead, raking the Outsiders with their long talons. An Outsider flicked out a disturbingly frog-like tongue and entangled one of the sylphs. The sylph screeched in terror as she disappeared into the Outsider’s waiting mouth. I tore my eyes away from the battlefield before I was overwhelmed, and I realized that Merlin had been trying to get my attention for a few seconds.

“Look there,” Merlin said, pointing off to the left. I looked where he indicated. A massive contingent of Sidhe warriors, their armor shining despite the black sky, marched toward us. They were miles away, though, and the Outer Gates were closed. The Outsiders pressed nearer to the Gates as though they could sense Sidhe reinforcements approaching.

“We need to clear the Outsiders from the Gates,” I said. “Drive them back so the Gates can open and hold them back long enough for the troops to get here.”

Merlin nodded. “Do those things have blood?”

The abrupt subject change caught me off-guard. “Um. I don’t know. Does it matter?”

Instead of answering, Merlin sprinted up a nearby staircase. I swore and followed him to the top of the wall, still carrying Molly. When I caught up with him, Merlin was chanting, his eyes half-closed and his arms raised to the sky. I deflected a jet of bright-orange spit from an Outsider below that would have taken Merlin’s arm off.

“You need to be more careful,” I said. “You’re just making yourself into a target.”

Merlin ignored me in favor of chanting, and I could feel the waves of power emanating from him. Whatever spell he was casting, it was big. Almost half a minute later, Merlin lowered his arms and drew in a deep, shuddering breath.

“What did you do?” I asked. Merlin pointed down at the Outsiders nearest to the wall. A few almost directly below us shook violently. As I watched, minuscule grains of a black fluid seeped from the Outsiders, like sand through a fine sieve, and coalesced into gobs of oily black hanging in the air. The Outsiders collapsed, desiccated, and the black liquid tore into their fellows nearby Those Outsiders fell in turn as their blood added to the spell. The process repeated more quickly, almost as if the spell were gathering power instead of losing it. More and more deflated-looking Outsiders collapsed to the ground, and the Sidhe began to regroup.

“Blood magic,” said Merlin, sounding breathless. “I don’t get much opportunity to use it.”

“Opportunity?” I said. I felt strangely sick as I watched Merlin’s spell decimate the host of Outsiders. “This shouldn’t be an… opportunity, like it’s something positive.”

“What else would you call it, then?”

I was spared from having to answer—and truthfully, I wasn’t sure if I had a good response—by the arrival of the Gatekeeper.

“Harry! Merlin! I’m glad you’re here,” said Rashid. He looked and sounded like he had just run a marathon. “And, um. Lady Molly, as well.”

I realized that Molly was not in the most dignified position and laid her down on the wall as carefully as I could. She whimpered and hunched her shoulders against the psychic assault of the fighting. “Want me to put you into a dreamless sleep?” I asked. Molly nodded, her eyes scrunched shut, and I laid a finger on her temple. “ _Dormius, dorme,_ ” I whispered. “ _Dormio, dorme._ ” Molly’s face smoothed out and she slumped against the wall.

“Will she be alright?” Rashid asked.

“She’s sleeping right now,” I said. “She’ll be fine after the battle. We need to tell you—”

Rashid held up his hand for silence. “Queen Mab has already informed me of your major discoveries, though we didn’t have time to discuss specifics. I understand that Lady Molly is currently in possession of the Ruby.” I nodded, and he continued. “I can’t tell you exactly what the Ruby’s function was in the Outer Gates, mostly because it would take hours, but I can tell you that placing the Ruby back where it belongs will strengthen the protective enchantments of the Gates.”

“I see,” I said. “Well, like you said, Molly is the one who currently holds the Ruby.”

“And you’ve just made her fall asleep until, I assume, after the battle,” said Rashid. “It would be unwise to wake her up to ask her permission to reinstate the Ruby, and I am sure that Queen Mab would see simply taking the thing from Lady Molly while she sleeps as theft.”

I nodded. “Sounds about right.”

“Clever,” said Rashid with a wry smile. “But you’ll have to make a decision at some point.”

“I know,” I said. “We have more pressing matters now, though.”

“Indeed.” Rashid moved to the edge of the wall and gazed at the battle below. “Prince Merlin, I must commend you. Your spell, though… disturbing, has given the Sidhe a second wind of sorts.”

“We’re trying to clear the area around the Gates,” I said. “To let the Sidhe reinforcements pass through.”

Rashid nodded in satisfaction. “I had a similar plan myself. You know, I’ve found that Outsiders respond similarly to electricity as do many creatures of both the Nevernever and the mortal world. They’re rather tougher than denizens of this reality, but electricity still paralyzes them for a second or two. It seems to interfere with their—not nervous system, but whatever they have instead of it.”

“Good to know,” I said. “But electrocuting each Outsider individually would tire me out too quickly, and if the bolt branches, it has a chance to hit the Sidhe.”

“I believe I can help with that,” said Rashid. He pulled a handful of small metal balls, maybe half an inch in diameter, from his pocket. He whispered a spell over them, and they crackled with white-blue magic. “They’ll pull lightning to them,” he said. “So the Sidhe aren’t electrocuted.” Rashid flicked his wrist as though he were scattering birdseed, and the tiny metal balls flew out of his hand and embedded themselves into a dozen Outsiders near the Outer Gates. “Harry, would you do the honors?”

“Why can’t you conjure the lightning yourself?” Merlin asked.

“I don’t know how this battle will go,” said Rashid. “I need to conserve my strength.”

“And I don’t?” I asked, only half joking.

“You’re not the Gatekeeper,” Rashid said with a small smile. “If you’re going to zap those things, now would be the time.”

I nodded and closed my eyes. I would have to modify a spell from my arsenal, which was tricky to do on the fly, but I had spent enough time training Molly that I had acquired some magical finesse. I visualized exactly what I wanted my spell to do and raised my right arm, my palm pointed toward the metal-marked Outsiders. _“Fulminarias!”_ I cried, and a splintered blast of lightning arced from my hand to the Outsiders. As Rashid had said, the Sidhe weren’t harmed. Smaller bolts of lightning jumped from Outsider to Outsider for several seconds, presumably reflected or conducted through Rashid’s web of metal. The affected Outsiders stiffened for a few seconds, which gave the Sidhe near them the opportunity to cut them down.

“I want to fight,” I said, watching the melee below me.

Rashid appraised me. “Do you think you can stand against the Outsiders in physical combat?”

“Yes, especially if I get some armor and a weapon. I’m not much good with a sword, but there’s gotta be some staves around here somewhere. Besides, I’m not alone, am I? I’ve taken on Outsiders before, with the Wild Hunt behind me.”

“The Hunt isn’t here now,” Rashid said. “Still, though, you’re right. You’re not alone. I think it will be good for morale for the Sidhe to see the Winter Knight fight with them.”

“Do you really think this is a good idea?” asked Merlin.

“I want to fight,” I said again. “It’s more than that. It’s like I’m drawn down there to the fight.”

“I think I know what you’re feeling,” said Rashid. “It’s Queen Mab’s call. All the Winterfae are experiencing it right now, I’d wager, and you feel it too because you’re the Knight. She’s calling you to battle. This is her hour of need.”

“Are you actually going to go down there?” Merlin said.

I turned to Rashid. “I need armor and a weapon.”

“You’re a moron,” said Merlin, but Rashid was already leading me down the stairs and into the wall. Merlin followed a moment later. “I can probably put some enchantments on the weapon,” he said when he caught up. “Something to electrocute the Outsiders when you hit one a certain way, maybe. I’ll need a power source to generate the electric shocks, though.”

“Can you use me as a power source?” I asked.

“What, drain your magic whenever you hit an Outsider? It’s possible, I suppose, but I think I have a better idea.” Merlin drew forth Ghostwheel’s card and summoned the ring of silvery light once more. I was briefly distracted by a Sidhe blacksmith handing me a set of armor that looked like it was carved from stone. When I took it, though, I discovered that it was no heavier than silk. I was loath to remove my duster, but I donned the armor and wrapped the duster around my shoulders once more as quickly as I could. It felt a little tight and probably looked silly as well, but no way was I going to fight Outsiders without my duster. It had been through a lot recently, but the enchantments placed upon the fabric held strong. Rashid had managed to find me a quarterstaff as well. I couldn’t tell what it was made from, but it felt sturdy in my hands. I gave it a few practice swings to get used to the heft. “Feels good,” I said. “I can use this.”

“Good,” said Merlin. “Ghostwheel, attach yourself to the tip of the quarterstaff.” The little ring of light moved across the floor and up the staff, coming to rest just at the tip. “You can order it to change its position,” said Merlin. “It’ll do it’s best to calculate what part of the staff you’ll be hitting with as you swing so it can move into a position to deliver a shock, but you can also direct it verbally.”

“Harry, you understand that once you go out there, you won’t be able to come back up until we open the Gates for the troops, right?” Rashid asked. “You’ll be trapped.”

“I understand,” I said. I realized I had overlooked a major problem. “Uh, how am I supposed to get over there in the first place?”

Rashid gestured, and I followed him to a spiral staircase. As we ascended, I realized that we must be in one of the towers that flanked the Outer Gates. Up, up, and up. I lost count of how many stairs we climbed. Finally, Rashid led me and Merlin through a door that opened onto the top of the Wall, just by the Gates. The Sidhe below fought with their backs to the wall, ragged but determined. Rashid spoke a word, and a platform that seemed to be made of the same pale crystal as the wall appeared on the side of the tower.

“Last opportunity to back out,” said Rashid.

“Not a chance,” I said.

Merlin clapped me on the shoulder. “Hope you don’t die.”

“Me too.” I climbed onto the parapet, and my duster billowed behind me. “This is it, Merlin,” I said. “‘If I take one more step, it’ll be the farthest away from home I’ve ever been.’” Merlin snorted, and I stepped Outside.

I could feel the change in the air immediately, though I had a difficult time quantifying it to myself. It had a hostile presence, as if the very air hated me. The clash of battle sounded different, almost distorted, as though I were listening through thin sheet of water. At first I thought a smog filled the battlefield, but no. Colors were just different, too—somehow darker and less saturated beneath the lightless sky. As many strange vistas I had seen in the Nevernever, and despite the hellride Merlin had taken me on earlier today (God, was it still today? I needed a nap), the other side of the wall was by far the most unearthly place I had visited.

The platform moved so slowly that I could barely feel its descent. Several Outsiders noticed me as I neared the bottom of the tower, and they made a mad rush for my little platform. One reached out a long, multi-jointed arm and swiped at my knees, but I parried with my staff. True to Merlin’s word, Ghostwheel predicted where my staff would connect with the Outsider and delivered enough of a shock to paralyze the creature. I crushed its joints with three quick blows from my staff, and a Sidhe warrior eviscerated it a second later.

Now, finally, I could let the Mantle take over as I had been aching to do since Merlin and I had arrived at the Outer Gates. What I had told Rashid earlier was true. I did feel Mab’s call, deep within the center of my chest. Even more than that, though, the Mantle of the Winter Knight demanded blood, and who was I to refuse? I slammed my staff into the ground, yelling a spell, and the earth shook beneath my feet. Sidhe and Outsiders alike fell to their knees, and I screamed my challenge into the air.

Vines erupted from the stone and bone, and for a brief second, I was terrified that Mother Winter herself had entered the battlefield. But no, the strangling vines wrapped around the Outsiders. The Sidhe recovered quickly and cut down a handful of the invaders in a second. Some of the Outsiders that had survived the first few seconds of Sidhe attacks died horribly as the vines squeezed into them and severed them into chunks. Most of the Outsiders appeared to be squeeze-resistant, however, and Merlin’s spell tore itself to shreds on their carapaces.

I must confess, I remember few of the details of that fight. I remember electrocuting Outsiders until Ghostwheel overheated again and had to shut down, and afterwards simply hitting the things with my staff until they stopped moving. I remember throwing bolts of lightning, one after the other, until I could barely move my lips to utter the spell. I remember the taste of Outsider viscera in my mouth and then vomiting so much I could barely draw a breath. Most of my memories are hazier than even those, just flashes of sensations and images, like when an Outsider’s acid spit corroded the hem of my duster or the particular stench of conjuring a tiny sun _inside_ the rent-open guts of something with way too many eyeballs. Most of these things I’m not sure if I’d rather recall or forget. One particular memory I wish I could wipe from my mind was when Merlin descended to the battlefield, his wrist dripping blood into a silver chalice. As the chalice filled, I saw that the surface of his blood danced with flames. He dipped his fingers into the cup and flicked tiny ruby droplets at the Outsiders, again and again, until all around him was a mass of burning, writhing flesh. I’m certain he killed several Sidhe with that method as well, and I’m just as certain he didn’t care.

The last thing I remember is Molly’s face framed by her hair like a halo. She smiled down at me and said something that the ringing in my ears drowned out. I marveled that she didn’t look different in this world beyond mine, and then I passed out again.

\---

I woke up in Molly’s bed, which was really not as exciting as it sounds. I didn’t recognize it as Molly’s bed until I had flailed for several rather embarrassing seconds. I spotted a note on the bedside table covered in Molly’s neat handwriting.

_Harry,_ the note read. _If I’m not here when you wake up, just ring the bell on the opposite wall. I haven’t given the Ruby to Queen Mab yet. I’m not sure if I want to. I need your advice._

_Merlin is leaving soon. I hope you’ll be awake before he’s gone, but if not, then he asked me to tell you that it was an honor to work with you and that you’re one of the bravest and stupidest people he knows. Just as an aside, the same goes for me,_ _but I think you should already know that._

_Get well soon._

_Best, Molly._

I heaved myself out of bed, ignoring the vigorous protests of my muscles, and pulled the silk rope on the far wall. I couldn’t hear anything, but only a few seconds later, a polite knock sounded at the door to Molly’s suite.

A Sidhe butler stood on the other side of the door. “You called for me, Winter Knight?” she asked.

“Yes, I suppose I did,” I said. “Um, I’m looking for Molly. Lady Molly, rather.”

“Of course,” said the Sidhe. “She is currently in conference with the Queen, but I can escort you to her when she is free.”

“Sure, that would be great,” I said. “I guess I’ll just… be here.” The butler waited, the absolute picture of good service. “Oh, right. You may go.”

“Thank you, sir Knight,” she said, and she turned on her heel and disappeared around a corner.

Molly’s meeting with Mab took hours. I didn’t want to pry into Molly’s things, but I got bored after fixing the enchantments on my duster and taking a nap. I ordered a plate of food when the grumbling in my stomach became too loud to ignore, and wondered if Merlin had already left. Strangely enough, I hoped not. As odd and, occasionally, downright scary as Merlin was, he had been a good friend and a valuable ally during our time working together. I wanted the chance to at least say goodbye to him before he left. After an hour or so, my curiosity and boredom got the better of me, and I wandered around Molly’s rooms. I found little of interest. Molly didn’t keep many of her personal belongings here, which made me feel less like I was snooping and more like I was touring a fancy hotel suite. I did find a small library, and I pulled a few interesting-looking books off the shelves and settled down in a comfortable armchair.

Telling time in Arctis Tor was difficult, but my internal clock told me it was early evening when an exhausted-looking Molly stumbled into the room. She was still wearing her ripped white dress, and I was pretty sure she hadn’t slept since she pulled me off the battlefield.

“Oh, Harry, I’m so glad you’re okay,” Molly said. She sank into the nearest armchair and grabbed a piece of bread left over from my meal. “You had us worried a few times.”

“Sure, help yourself,” I said as Molly shoved the entire piece of bread in her mouth at once. “What happened at the Gates? I can barely remember.”

Molly took rather longer than necessary to finish her bread, and I figured she was calculating exactly how much she could tell me. “I was terrified when I woke up and the battle wasn’t over,” she said finally. “I thought it meant you had died. Guess your spell just wore off, though. Anyways, I’ve been learning how to block out the emotions and energy I normally pick up on, so I was able to help a bit. You were surrounded, and Merlin jumped down.. He just leaped right over the wall, but he sort of floated to you. He did this thing with his blood…” Molly hugged her knees to her chest. “Harry, it was awful.”

“Yeah, I think remember that part,” I said quietly.

“The Outsiders focused all their power on the Gates after you… after you went down. A lot of Sidhe died. It was a close thing, but Merlin and I managed to rally the warriors again and hold off the Outsiders until the reinforcements arrived. Then Rashid opened the Gates to let them through. I didn’t even know there were that many Sidhe. I hate to say it, but it was kind of cool. It was like this infinitely long line of troops just marching through the gate, all shining and silver.” Molly gave me a small smile, and I wished I had been conscious to see the glory Molly described. “Anyway, the Outsiders pulled back not long after that, and that’s when I found you. You were covered in blood and barely breathing. We nearly lost you while you were healing, but Mab finally stabilized you.”

Something in her story didn’t quite make sense. “Why would Mother Winter pull the troops back at that point? Mab said she has Intellectus about matters pertaining to the Winter Court, but the way the Outsiders acted suggests that they were commanded by someone without knowledge of the movements of the Sidhe.”

Molly thought for a moment. “Maybe Mother Winter wasn’t commanding the Outsiders,” she said. I opened my mouth to argue, but she held up her hand for silence in a way that was strangely reminiscent of Mab. “Maybe there’s a power struggle going on with the Outsiders, and this whole attempt for the Ruby was just the Adversary’s way of trying to win.”

“That’s not a bad theory,” I said. “Especially considering Mother Winter’s and Ellen’s other actions. Their whole scheme was kind of sloppy and rushed, which would make sense if they’re operating under a time crunch. I don’t know if we could ever be sure, though.” Molly had reminded me of something far more important than speculating about the Adversary’s motivations. “So what happened? With the Ruby, I mean.”

Molly chewed her lip. “I still don’t know for sure,” she said. “Mab and I tried to recover my memories, but they’re not all there. I think Mother Winter used some magic related to our Mantles, something that gave her more power over me, to force me to steal the Ruby and then wipe it from my mind.”

“She said something to that effect when she captured me,” I said. “Something about how her mantle gives her power over other members of the Court.”

“It felt like I was possessed,” Molly said with a shudder. “When we were in that place and she told me to give her the Ruby. I knew I didn’t have the Ruby, Harry, I _knew_ it. But then I pulled it out of my pocket and… and…” Molly gave a quiet sob and buried her head in her hands.

I moved to perch on the arm of her chair and put a comforting arm around her shoulders. “It’s okay, Molls. You fought her off. You’re _stronger_ than her.”

Molly’s shoulders shook as she cried, and we sat in silence for a while. “I still have the Ruby,” Molly said into her hands. “I didn’t give it to Mab. I wanted to talk to you about what to do with it. I know Rashid wants it too, but I’m just not sure who to give it to.”

“I thought about that, too,” I said. It was true. I had been considering it in the back of my mind ever since Rashid had asked me to return the Ruby to the Outer Gates. I wasn’t sure when exactly I had reached a decision, but I had little doubt in my mind. “I think you should give it to her.”

Molly jerked her head up in surprise. “Really? I wouldn’t have thought…”

“You wouldn’t have thought I would ever want to give Mab any advantage?” I said. Molly smiled wryly. “Normally, you’d be right. After this, though, after Mother Winter… I think Mab needs every advantage she can get. Rashid thinks Mab could end the war with the Outsiders with this.” Molly looked at me, wide-eyed, and I continued. “As much as I hate to say it, and as much as it goes against my every reasonable thought and instinct, I think we need to trust Mab with this.”

“Trust… Mab,” Molly echoed. “I don’t know, Harry. I’m almost tempted to keep it for myself.”

“I think that would be a waste,” I said. “This is a powerful thing. Either Rashid or Mab would use it better than you would.” I know I sounded harsh, but it was true, and Molly nodded after a moment of consideration.

“It was just kind of a silly fantasy,” she said. “Actually, it’s kind of weird. I had these images myself as this powerful queen or something, not with the Winter Court but under my own power. I imagined I was in a palace, my own palace, and I had a crown and a throne and I wore the Ruby as a pendant.” Molly’s fingertips brushed the hollow of her throat. “I’ve _never_ wanted anything like that before I picked up the Ruby.”

“Rashid did say that the Ruby has a corrupting influence on its bearer,” I said. “Maybe it’s time to pass it on to someone with more experience at resisting corruption.”

Molly reached into her pocket and pulled out the Ruby. It shone in the palm of her hand, and I watched the blank mask of her face. After a minute, she closed her hand into a fist, cutting off the Ruby’s light. “You’re right,” she said. “We need to trust Mab to do what she does best. Will you come with me, though? To give the Ruby to her, I mean.”

“Of course,” I said. “Sooner is better, I think, both for you and for her.”

Molly nodded, and we made our way to Mab’s empty throne room.

“Queen Mab, I have made my choice,” Molly said. I looked around, but I couldn’t see Mab anywhere. Then, in the time between one heartbeat and the next and without fanfare or announcement, Mab appeared.

“What have you decided?” Mab asked as though she had been there all along.

Instead of replying, Molly reached into her pocket and pulled out the Ruby once more. She looked at it wistfully, then dropped it into Mab’s outstretched hand. Mab smiled, for once, without a trace of malice.

“Thank you, Lady Molly,” said Mab. “I know you place great trust in me by giving me this. Be assured, I will not fail you.” She turned to me. “Knight Dresden, you have fulfilled your duties admirably. You have my gratitude for proving my innocence in the matter of Mary’s death and for your assistance in securing the Ruby.”

“Sure thing,” I said. Mab was acting quite un-Mab-like, and I felt rather uncomfortable. “Do you have any idea where Merlin is?”

“Yes,” Mab said with a hint of a smile.

I grumbled under my breath. “Where is he?”

“He informed me he wished to speak to some members of the court,” Mab said.

Molly cocked her head to the side and grinned. “I think I know where he is,” she said.

“You may go,” said Mab. As I followed Molly out of the throne room, something made me glance back at Mab. She sank onto her throne and held the Ruby at eye level, completely entranced. I recalled my speculation that the Ruby might contain some part of the Nevernever, and I hoped I had not led us down a very dark path indeed.

Molly and I found Merlin just outside Arctis Tor, directing Ghostwheel to nip at the heels of Sidhe who crossed the courtyard. He seemed to take great pleasure in watching the Sidhe’s intense discomfort fight with their mysterious desire to ignore every aspect of Merlin’s existence.

“Heard you were leaving soon,” I said as I neared Merlin.

“Harry! Glad to see you’re making a full recovery.” Merlin absently ran his hand over the deck of cards at his belt. “You heard right. It’s time for me to move on. I’m just about done with this Shadow.”

“You don’t plan on coming back, then?” Molly asked. She sounded a little disappointed, and Merlin smiled sadly at her.

“No, I don’t. I’ve done everything I can here.”

“Did Mab ever tell you why she called you here in the first place?” I asked. “Before the Ruby was even stolen—” I glanced at Molly, and she shuffled her feet “—Mab had no cause to believe that I couldn’t handle an apparently straightforward murder investigation.”

Merlin shrugged, but Molly spoke up. “She told me.”

“What did she say?” Merlin asked. Molly shook her head, but he pressed the question. “Oh, go on, tell me. It might be important.”

“She said, and I quote, ‘It’s now or never,’” said Molly quietly. “‘He’s running out of time to fulfill his debt.’”

“Oh.” Merlin looked a little green. “In that case, maybe I should be out of this Shadow sooner rather than later.”

“Are you leaving without saying goodbye to Mab?” I asked.

“I’ve expressed my gratitude for her hospitality and my relief that she considers my debt repaid. Besides, it sounds like she’s made peace with my untimely departure already,” said Merlin.

“What about Mary’s wake tomorrow?” I said. “I think you should attend. It would mean a lot to Ivy.” I only felt a little bit guilty for manipulating Merlin. I still had some things I wanted to ask him.

Merlin considered that for a moment. “Fine,” he said. “You are shameless.”

“Yep,” I said. “Molly, do you mind taking us back to Chicago?”

Molly smiled and opened a rift. “Be safe,” she said as she hugged me. “Goodbye, Merlin. It was good to finally meet you.”

Merlin bowed and kissed Molly’s hand, which made her giggle and certainly did not make a roar of jealousy sound within me, thank you very much, because that would be entirely inappropriate. I dragged Merlin through the rift, almost before he had completely stood up, and we stumbled out into the bright sunlight of the marina where we had first met. My boat wasn’t far, and we soon boarded and set off toward Demonreach.

Merlin looked happier on the prow of the boat than I’d ever seen him. “I love sailing,” he said as we pulled out of the marina. “Did I ever tell you that? I’ve got a sailboat back home.”

“Home in the Courts of Chaos?” I asked. “Or home in Amber?”

“Neither, actually,” said Merlin. “Home in California. I’m going to miss this Shadow, I think. I’ve met some good people here.”

“Good people, unsavory characters, vicious tentacled beasts trying to destroy the fabric of reality, this place has got them all,” I said. I steered us in silence for some time. Then, after I judged that Merlin was in an appropriately meditative mood, I spoke again. “You killed a lot of Sidhe back there.”

“I did,” Merlin said. “And I’m sorry about that. But I killed more Outsiders than Sidhe, and I saved your life as well.”

“There must have been a better way. You didn’t have to kill them.”

“They died in the line of duty. They were soldiers. It’s sad, but it happens.”

I wasn’t sure what made me lash out at Merlin. He certainly didn’t deserve it, but the stress and terror of the last day finally got to me, and I broke. “What do you know about _duty_? You’re a prince, twice over, but you’re not using your position to do anything actually _useful._ Amber and the Courts both sound like pretty fucked up places, if you’re all trying to murder each other there like you said. Maybe you could make real changes, but instead, you’re a computer programmer, here, in this backwater Shadow you can’t seem to get away from fast enough. Don’t talk to me about duty.”

Merlin stayed silent for so long I thought he wouldn’t answer. Finally, he spoke. “I’ve heard about you, you know. Even in California, you’re famous among certain crowds, and I heard the Sidhe talk when Mab helped me back in college. You’ve killed a lot of people you didn’t have to as well. So I don’t know where you get off thinking you’re better than me when we both know that the position of Winter Knight doesn’t allow for that kind of moral superiority.”

“I don’t think I’m better than you,” I insisted. “I just think you’re not—”

Merlin interrupted me. “Yes you do. You think you’re more _Good,_ capital G. Well, fine. You win. I never said I was good. I’ve never claimed to be anything more than what I am.”

“I don’t think I’m good,” I said, and as painful as it was to hear myself say it out loud, it was true. I hadn’t counted myself on the side of the angels (except in very specific and rather literal circumstances) in a long time.

Merlin shook his head. “I saw the way you looked at me in that shack in the Nevernever. Fear I can understand. Surprise or shock, fine. But you were beyond that. You looked at me, and it was like you didn’t recognize me.”

“Can you blame me?” I asked. “The world was fucking dissolving behind you. I thought I had just watched you _die_ , and then there you are, and you did something to destroy part of the Nevernever, part of _reality._ That’s not supposed to be possible. You keep doing these things that you shouldn’t be able to do, and then you expect me to just accept it and be okay with it. I’m _not okay,_ Merlin. I’m not anywhere close to okay.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say to that,” Merlin said. “I am the way I am. I thought you understood that, and that perhaps we were friends, or, at the very least, acquaintances with a working relationship built on mutual trust and respect. I see now that’s not the case.” He fell silent for a moment as he gazed across Lake Michigan. “Perhaps I should stay elsewhere tonight.”

All the fight had left me as suddenly as it had come on. “Look, I’m sorry. I have no right to tell you what to do with your life. I don’t know what Amber and the Courts of Chaos are like, and it wasn’t fair of me to snap at you like that. I… want to count you as a friend.”

“Apology accepted,” said Merlin after a pause. He went back to the prow and tilted his face up into a beam of sunlight that broke through the overcast sky. “I never had the chance to be good, you know. I made choices, yes, about the kind of person I wanted to become, but if one choice is bad and the other is worse, can I ever say that I’m a good person?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I’m not sure if I’m the right person to answer that question.”

“I disagree,” said Merlin as he turned to me. “I think you’d have a much more insightful and useful answer than most.”

“That’s reassuring,” I muttered. “The choice between bad option and a worse one is why I’m the Winter Knight,” I said loud enough Merlin could hear me over the breaking waves. “And if I’m being honest, I’m not sure which choice I made.” I didn’t want to mention how much that scared me.

We arrived at Demonreach shortly after, and Alfred, possibly sensing my mood, left us alone for the most part. Merlin pulled several pizzas out of Shadow for dinner. The cheese tasted a bit different than what I was used to, but I liked it anyway. Maybe they made cheese differently wherever he had conjured it from. “You never told me about Frakir,” I said after we had both eaten a whole pizza each. I had to admire Merlin’s ability to put away food.

“Like I said, Frakir is my rope bracelet,” Merlin said, holding up his wrist as a demonstration. “She’s alive, kind of, but I don’t think she’s sentient, and she doesn’t eat or sleep or anything like that, so maybe _alive_ isn’t the best descriptor.” He shrugged. “I had her in my pocket when I assayed the Logrus. I told you how the Logrus and the Pattern kind of… rewrite you when you walk them, right?” I nodded, and he continued. “The Logrus at least can have unpredictable effects on inanimate objects as well. I’ve never heard of clothing or anything coming to life, but sometimes carried objects gain some new properties. Frakir was just a scrap of rope in my pocket, left over from when I was cleaning up my boat earlier that day. Now, she can sense danger to me in my immediate presence, and she’s displayed some limited problem-solving abilities as well.”

“That’s so weird,” I said, and I took the rope as he held it out to me. “That kind of thing wouldn’t be possible in this world, not without a fairly involved spell and some kind of power source. And even then, you’d have a hell of a time trying to define what ‘danger’ means to it or getting it to think for itself at all.” I was surprised with myself. This was the first time I wasn’t afraid of some otherworldly phenomenon Merlin showed me. Frakir twitched in my hands, and I quickly handed it back. Not out of fear, of course. Definitely not.

“So where are you going next?” I asked.

“I’m not sure,” said Merlin. He fiddled with a pebble he had picked up off the floor of the shack. “Maybe I’ll pay my mother a visit in the Courts, and I want to spend some time in Amber. Before that, I’ll probably take some time to work on Ghostwheel and try to fix that overheating problem. Long-term though, I have no idea.”

“Well, long-term you’re a nigh-immortal prince, so I think you’ve got plenty of options,” I said, and Merlin laughed.

“I suppose I do, at that,” he said. “What about you? What’s next for you?”

“I don’t really know either,” I said. “Knight duties, I guess. Whatever fresh hell Mab decides to throw me into. I’ll probably have to help clean up the fallout from this case. Mother Winter being infected… it changes everything.” I fidgeted with my copper bracelet, and it gave off a few sparks that singed my fingers. “Molly and I gave the Ruby to Mab.”

“I don’t know enough about the whole situation to really know if that’s good or bad,” said Merlin. “But just for the record, I think you made the right decision. It’s a risky move, from what I gathered, but the Gatekeeper said that she could end this war with the Outsiders. That’s got to be a good thing, right?”

“I think so,” I said. “I just hope she can use it without being overwhelmed.”

“She’s a tough cookie,” said Merlin.

We fell asleep not long afterward. I dreamed of Merlin, blood like flames spilling from a wound in his heart, and Molly standing behind him holding the knife.

\---

The day of Mary’s funeral dawned crisp and misty. I didn’t have a nice suit, so Merlin conjured appropriate attire for both of us, and we took turns shaving in front of the single cracked mirror in the shack.

“Do we bring flowers?” Merlin asked. I nodded, and he began his jellyfish routine once more, but I stopped him.

“That’s not personal enough,” I said. I focused on the Intellectus I had of the island, and I located three small patches of wildflowers. “I want to pick them myself.”

It took me nearly an hour to assemble an appropriate bouquet, by which time the mist had cleared out and I was starting to feel distinctly warm in my heavy suit. Merlin and I made our way to the dock, where he expressed an interest in piloting the boat himself. I showed him the basic controls and lounged on the deck, letting the warmth of the sun soak into my very bones. The chill of Winter didn’t feel so bitter then, and I think I understood better how Andras had felt about Mary.

I drove Merlin’s Shadow car to Ivy’s safehouse hotel, where Ivy and Kincaid met us. Ivy hugged me when I arrived, and she cried over the small bouquet of wildflowers I presented her with. “They’re beautiful,” she said. “You picked these yourself, didn’t you?” I nodded, which made her smile through her tears.

We took an armored limousine to a small wooded park. “Mary was cremated yesterday, and her ashes were sent to Wyoming,” Ivy explained along the way. “She wanted to be buried with her parents in a cemetery on Mount Elliott. Today is a wake, not a funeral.” Over the course of the drive, I caught a few glimpses of a pale van following us. Ivy must have noticed my discomfort, because she smiled and said, “don’t worry. That’s just the car bringing the catering.”

A few other people had arrived before us. Andras was there, talking to a handsome young man that I recognized from Murphy’s report as Mary’s boyfriend. Andras had arranged his face into a pleasant mask, but I could see the pain in his eyes. A few people I recognized from around the safehouse chatted nearby, and a woman who could only be Mary’s sister played fetch with a dog that looked like a cross between a corgi and a German shepherd. “This was one of Mary’s favorite places to go for a picnic,” Ivy said as we stepped out of the limo. “She brought me here last summer. I think Kincaid scared away the rest of the visitors, but it was still fun.” Ivy hurried to the dog, leaving me and Merlin to ourselves. “Thank you for bringing Nutmeg,” I could hear Ivy say to Mary’s sister. “Do you think I could still walk her sometimes on the weekends?”

I pounced on the table of refreshments almost as soon as the caterers set it up. Armed with finger foods and a delicate flute of champagne apiece, Merlin and I moved from group to group, doing our best impressions of polite mingling. Merlin was better than me. Probably all that courtly training. I’d never been good at polite small talk. Still, Mary’s assorted friends and family were more than willing to share stories of the woman they had all loved in their own ways. I learned more about Mary, about her love of fiber arts and green tea, about how she had sung alto but had always wished she were a soprano, and about her dreams of opening a mental health practice that catered specifically to the denizens of the supernatural world. I knew a few people who would have benefited from that.

“It really means the world to me that you came, Harry,” said Ivy from behind me. I turned and frowned at the glass of champagne in her hand.

“Aren’t you, like, fifteen?” I asked.

“Sixteen,” said Ivy. “Besides, I think I’ve earned it.”

“You’ve earned that and a lot more. Not a lot more alcohol, I mean,” I added as Ivy looked askance. “I just mean. Um. You deserve a break.”

“I don’t think any of us are going to get a break for a very long time,” Ivy said, sighing. “But you’re right. It’s good to be able to just… enjoy this.”

I tilted my head up to the sky, and dappled sunlight filtered down from the new spring leaves above and played across my face. Ivy was right on both counts. I had the feeling that I wouldn’t have the privilege of experiencing this again, this warm happiness from a combination of sunlight and alcohol and friendship, for quite some time. I wanted to make the most of it while it lasted.

All too soon, though, the small gathering broke apart. It was time for each of us to return to our respective worlds. Mary’s sister and boyfriend left first, after informing Ivy that she was going to make Nutmeg fat if she kept feeding her treats. Andras, displaced and uncomfortable, left shortly afterward, followed by Mary’s work associates. Ivy and Kincaid were the last to leave. Ivy gave the little park a long, lingering look before climbing into the limo. I knew she was fixing the memories in her mind to be taken out and cherished during the dark days ahead.

Finally, only Merlin and I were left in the park.

“I’ve never been very good at this kind of thing,” said Merlin. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets. “Normally, I just kind of disappear in the night. It’s traditional.”

“I don’t really like this part, either,” I said. “I never know what I’m supposed to say. _Thanks_ doesn’t feel like quite enough, but _nice job saving the world,_ _except for the part where the world is probably totally fucked anyways_ is a little too on the nose, I think.” I was joking, but I knew my voice had an undercurrent of seriousness. What do I say to someone who terrifies me and amazes me, someone who saved my life more times than I wanted to count in the short time we’d known each other, someone who taught me things I didn’t want to know but needed to?

Merlin seemed to understand, though. “Let’s keep it simple,” he said as he pulled his deck of cards from his belt and shuffled through it. “Harry, it’s been a pleasure working with you. All my best.” He found the card he wanted, and he held it aloft. “Goodbye,” said Merlin as his silhouette turned into bright light and ran through all the colors of the rainbow. “And hello, as always.”

Whatever that was supposed to mean.


End file.
